#should have gotten rid of that bridge
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"The army of Nargothrond was routed, and those Elves left in the City awaiting their return, instead found the Dragon and his Orcs crossing their bridge, entering the citadel." - The Sacking of Nargothrond
#glaurung#fall of nargothrond#should have gotten rid of that bridge#tolkien#middle earth#children of hurin#greyscale art#silmarillion
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growing up with heeseung, jay and sunghoon you never once imagined them being anything more to you than your childhood best friends - and to some extent you're correct: they remain your gross boy best friends up until college, when suddenly things start to feel different. with all of them.
✧ heeseung x fem!reader, jay x fem!reader, sunghoon x fem!reader ✧
✧ childhood friends to lovers, fake dating trope, college setting, story begins in childhood and leads us through all the important phases ✧
✧ this work contains: intended lowercase, poor tries at comedy, simp!hee, simp!hoon & simp!jay as well as very oblivious reader, jake as the first ever boyfriend, hanni, chaewon and beomgyu have a cameo ✧
✧ warnings! mentions of bullying, smut (MDNI), more to be added if needed. ✧
hi! for my very first enha fic I have decided to open a taglist! You can join it by sending me an ask, so that I can keep track.
taglist: open
current word count: 4k
estimated word count: 15-20k
posting date: tba
taglist: @kgneptun, @deobitifull, @lovelickies, @tinie03, @moon4moony, @sousydive, @jebetwo, @haechology, @wooziswife, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @vannabanana1995, @nctislifue , @wiley199, @lovgfrd, @heegyuwrld, @caravm, @adoredbyjay, @notevenheretbh1
teaser
the principal's office could really use an interior designer, you think. or just a whole renovation at this point. the ceiling is showing signs of leakage, there is paint peeling off the walls behind the desk. and the desk itself, jeez, principal higgs should have gotten rid of it ages ago, you keep telling him!
“how many visits will that be for the week?” he doesn’t even look up from whatever he was writing as he says this. you shift on your seat and look to your left where jay is tapping his fingers on the armrest of the uncomfortable chair and heeseung next to him is just staring at the principal’s receding hairline. meanwhile sunghoon to your right is silently plotting your death.
since none of the boys speak up, you clear your throat.
“the fourth, sir,” you say with a smile you think is charming but it actually isn’t. principal higgs sighs and puts his pen down as well as his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.
“thank you, miss y/l/n,” he replies, “and how many more times are you planning to sit in these horribly uncomfortable chairs this week?”
“none, sir,” you continue, the smile still playing on your lips. the older man behind the desk closes his eyes for a second.
“you say that every time and yet here we are again. so, what did you do this time? did you accidentally fall and hit mr. park in the face again?” he looks at jay, who rolls his eyes at the reminder, “well, he doesn’t look like he got a black eye. so, what is it?”
when even you don’t respond, avoiding the principals eyes as he opens them again and the boys are all hopeless cases anyways, mr. higgs takes a deep breath and puts his glasses back on.
“fine. let’s see,” he pulls on the stack of papers he has gotten from his secretary and looks at it with his lips pursed. all four of you shift on your seats now.
“alright then. mr. lee, as it seems you… put several worms in mr. sim’s locker?” higgs eyebrow pierces up and heeseung coughs.
“and mr. park, jay, you… sabotaged mr. sim’s chair so that he fell on to his backside and then told him to “go suck it”?” jay snorts, still tapping against the armchair and not looking at the principal. higgs takes a deep breath.
“mr. park, sunghoon,… you held out your leg for mr. sim to fall over… almost twenty-three times in one day.”
sunghoon has to concentrate not to look too proud of himself.
“and finally, miss y/l/n. you yelled at mr. sim in front of your whole class, saying, and i quote “you’re a stupid asshat anyways, i hope you trip and break your butt, you ugly little worm”.”
you smile innocently.
“you also kicked him in the shins, as a grand ending gesture, as mrs. james was kind enough to write down for me.”
he puts the notebook down and looks at the four of you.
“come on you guys, i know you like to play harmless pranks on teachers. like to make one joke too many in class. but this? if mr. sim’s parents hear about this, and they will, there could be consequences that even i can’t hold back.”
#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#jay x reader#heeseung x reader#sunghoon x reader#jake x reader#enhypen fic#enhypen imagines#enha x reader#enha fluff#enha smut#enha fanfiction#enhypen fluff#enhypen au#enha au#enha imagine
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RUBATOSIS || chapter one: self digestion
PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it )
RATING : 18+ ( no smut in this chapter, but it's very unsettling )
WORD COUNT : 13, 776
WARNINGS : infidelity ( coryo's engaged to livia ), power imbalance, unreliable narrator ( it's 3rd POV but focuses on coryo's view ), unhealthy dynamics, dehumanizing language, medical experimentation, body examination that has... strange vibes, body horror-esque, coryo and gaul are messed up in this fic, he's more like his book version than movie
SUMMARY : 🙶 rubatosis - noun. the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 🙷
Fortune, marriage, and success - all within the hands of Coriolanus Snow, and it still isn’t enough to satisfy him. Tigris has grown distant and Livia is far more trouble than it's worth.
Dr. Gaul has just the solution for him.
A/N : This is my first time posting my fanfic work on tumblr, so I hope everyone has fun reading this. If there are any mistakes, lemme know. This is the first of five chapters!
[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ]
self digestion || autolysis - stage one of decomposition
Oh, he hated this.
He absolutely despised this.
A click of the soles, stepping against the freshly clean sidewalk, rid of any possible careless litter and debris. Had it not been for others who, too, were using the same path, even if they were going in opposite directions, had he half a mind, Coriolanus would have taken the moment to prop himself against a wall and let out the loudest sound of frustration. It wouldn’t be unwarranted, it wouldn’t be uncalled for. Dare he say, he almost feels he should be entitled to it. It had only been four days, but four days should have been enough time for Tigris to get back to him already. The correspondence was not even something of dire content, at least, Coriolanus imagined so. Questions of Grandma’am, if her time with Mrs. Plinth ( he was not going to refer to her as ‘Ma Plinth’ ) had been going well, how was the solo business venture regarding Tigris’s fashion going, was there any renovations that the home needed, how were they — things that he assumed, wrongly he guessed, that would be so simple to answer.
God forbid that he still had the decency to still check in with his family even after he long moved out into his own place.
If Tigris thought she could play him for a fool, she was the one in the wrong; the signs were as clear as can be, that Tigris was trying to ice him out as much as she could. And after all he’s worked hard for? Fixing the home up, making sure the fridge never stays empty, stabilizing the family. He’s even gotten engaged before Grandma’am could even croak, and is letting Tigris design his fiancé’s wedding gown! What else was he supposed to do to try and gain back her warmth? Dance and clap like a District to make himself seem smaller, more dumb, to please her? There was a lock to his jaw, a small grit in Coriolanus’s teeth, as he sipped down the coffee in his hand, the other in his coat pocket.
He didn’t even wish to broach the idea of his fiancé on his walk to the Citadel. The heavy breath, a sigh, that breached itself out his lips. A hand raised to rub a gloved thumb briefly at the bridge of his nose.
Ugh, Livia… It was a pain to even internally taste the words of her name on his tongue.
It was an arranged marriage of convenience that he sought after, an extra piggy bank that he could expend on; and how quickly the elder Cardews lapped up at his palm when he planted the idea of marrying their daughter. A man who was of the old guard elite families, an assistant of Dr. Gaul’s, inheritor of the Plinth’s fortune, a gamemaker in training? They were downright salivating, that he almost felt embarrassed for Livia having to witness her parents’ stripped to their barest of greeds. The keyword being almost. Coriolanus needed to play his cards right to ensure his future, it was only fair game. If that meant taking his chance with the Cardews’ and their banks, he’d be just the fool that Tigris would want him to be if he turned them away. But, he could reluctantly suppose that the arrangement could be considered an equal drain on both parties. He seized their assets and their daughter seized up his free time. How could he forget the fundraiser dinner that Livia had invited them both to later on in the evening? She was delightful enough to remind him of it while they shared breakfast together, between his bites of quiche so that he couldn’t show a hint of a frown.
Coriolanus sucked in a careful breath between his teeth.
If she could only put herself to better use than just the one redeeming quality of a socialite. There was a slim chance he may have miscalculated. Perhaps it would have been an easier time, having something set up with Clemensia, or Lysistrata.
“Mr. Snow! Good morning and welcome back, Dr. Gaul is already waiting for you in—“
“In Lab H05, got it! And a good morning to you, too.” He smiled back effortlessly to the front desk worker, giving them a wave and just the right, charming amount of teeth with the upwards pull of his mouth.
Entering into the Citadel and seeing the hive of workers shift from one place to another in constant movement; they all tried to keep their voices at a low volume, but there was a constant buzz in the air, as they went from one hall to the other. Coriolanus maneuvered himself around them, slipping his deep mahogany overcoat seamlessly folded across his forearm. Full-Grain leather gloves that kept him warm from the cold, taken off his hands and instead placed neatly into the pocket of his overcoat. What a marvel it would have been for his young, naïve self to bear witness the luxury of a full wardrobe he now had. Never again did he have to spend long nights studying for the Academy besides an equally tired Tigris, who busied herself with trimming down the sizes of his father’s discarded shirts to fit him for school the next day.
It was a muscle memory at this point, the path to one of the many labs that Dr. Gaul had established her practice in. She had told Coriolanus that she had a lab for each different study and project she was passionate towards, ones that were more… presentable, to the average Capital citizen, and ones that were more uncensored. Having worked for over a year under Dr. Gaul’s tutelage, Coriolanus had seen a decent amount, the clean and the vile, but even then, he knew very well he had not seen all. He wasn’t even sure if he did want to see all. Especially regarding what happened last time he wandered around the Citadel during Academy days. The doors to Lab H05 were wide open, Coriolanus noted, seeing it in his line of sight, getting closer and closer. It was inviting, telling any worker to come in and step in at any time ( should Dr. Gaul be around ).
The air here was entirely different from what it was in the hallway. Where the air from when he first entered had been warm, inviting from the nipping cold outside. The vague smell of coffee, and an even fainter scent of something chemical, had mingled and intertwined to give the vaguest illusion that the Citadel could pass for a workplace like any other. However, the lab was as if entering an entirely different building. The lights that shone uncomfortably glaring, fluorescent lights that were hung overhead, on the ceiling. There were small lights, embedded into the floors and columns as well, guiding the path to any who walked in. It drowned the large room in an almost blue light. Lab H05 was one of the “clean” labs. A sterile scent in the air, the chemicals that were so faint in the halls were far more prominent, evident here. But, to the trained nose, there was something faint here too. The rusted scent of iron tickled under Coriolanus’s nose, but it barely registered to him anymore as anything concerning. Seeing the endless shelves of… odd specimens, the scent of blood was the last thing that should ever scare him away.
“Dr. Gaul, good morning,” He kept a steady tone, not one that sounded tired, nor too joyous. Being seen as her “favorite” didn’t mean he could speak to her as casually as he pleased. It just meant that he took her current attention. A fickle thing that could be stripped away at any moment if he showed any less than acceptable.
“Coryo,” He tensed his shoulders the same time she breathed it out in loving fashion. Her back once facing him, now turned as she walks towards him to cut the distance between the two. Since the gap started to form between Tigris and him, Dr. Gaul had taken to using that nickname on him. If it was to be used in terms of endearing him to her, or to mock him with the name that ghosts had called him, none could say for sure.
Coriolanus liked to believe it to be both, if he believed his assumptions of her character were right.
He never once let his eyes leave contact with her own, but he could hear the movement of her prominent, red latex gloves being peeled off her hands. She always thought it to be ironic, to wear such a color despite her profession. It matched the dye job that she had done on her surgical gown. He felt the weight of hands touching either side of his forearms, the smile on Dr. Gaul’s face caused a crinkle in her eyes as she bared all teeth in her smile. He wondered if she knew how threatening her grin looked.
“A morning to you as well. Has it been treating you good?”
It felt as if some sort of warm feeling was spreading out from Dr. Gaul’s hands, through his arms and into his body. What a disgusting sensation, it made goosebumps rise on his skin.
“As well as it could be.” Coriolanus’s voice spoke softly.
Livia drained his energy far more than he expected with her morning rambles and gossip.
Dr. Gaul’s hands smacked against his arms in a laugh, loud and knowing, she always knew, turning around to walk deeper in the lab. “Hah! By the sounds of it, it seems you’re not getting some peace of mind when you head home,” She turned back to look at him, giving him a glance, she was prying something out of him. “That’s no good, Coryo. You need to be in top shape to work, I can’t have my assistant become so… drained.”
The crease in her eyes showed again.
“If this is your preferred state, there is a new species of leeches I am working on. I assure you it is far more efficient than a Cardew of species.”
Well, now it was his turn to laugh.
A dry chuckle that slipped from Coriolanus’s lips, moving to follow Dr. Gaul. Placing his coat on a table made of rich wood, something less… aseptic looking. There were moments where he often froze under the woman’s gaze; a humiliating, bodily reaction that made him feel so small, so vulnerable as he used to be. Yet, it was in times like these, where he could understand how Dr. Gaul still managed to hold sway over people besides just exemplary displays of fear and power. There was a sense of humor to her, if he could call it that, where if a powerful woman like her involved yourself in - you felt so included, special.
“It was nothing like that. Livia just reminded me that after work today, she and I have to attend dinner later in the evening. It’s a fundraiser for the improvement and reconstruction of the Corso.” He turned his sight away from Dr. Gaul’s eyes, not being able to keep the contact any more. Flicking to the sight of the endless, bright shelves that lit up the tubes containing various specimens and experiments. Some failures, some on pauses, some successes, and some were just creative ‘what-ifs’; that would explain some of the seemingly useless fusions, like the jellyfish that had spider legs mixed in with some of its natural lappets, now encased in a resin tube. Coriolanus can’t recall if he was employed at the Citadel yet when this specimen was made. His fingers briefly touched upon the cool glass of it. What a disgusting idea. “I almost nearly forgot about it.” Dr. Gaul hummed at his response.
“Why, doesn’t that sound riveting! What a joy young life is, flitting from one function to the other, all the night-time glamor. You know, before I was transferred to work in the Citadel, I was the same. I thought of giving my children some of my old wardrobe from my youth, but it’s so out of the current trends, it just collects dust now.” What a blessing, for her kids. They could avoid the embarrassment of coming into the room looking as if they robbed the Pre-Dark Days exhibit at the Capital’s museum. The heels of Dr. Gaul’s heels clicked against the smooth, waxed floor. Coriolanus could feel the brief sliver of her heavy presence pass him by from behind, as she went to head over to another area in the room. It sounded vaguely close to the center of it.
“You must be excited, Coryo. Are you going to wear,” Her words paused. She was tasting the air for something. “Ah, what’s her name… That cousin of yours, the one who started her new business a while ago.”
What was the point of this conversation?
“Tigris.”
A brief flare tickled behind his ribs, reminding him of his thoughts earlier before. Standing up from his spot, fingers now leaving the glass of the odd ( sickening ) creature, his prints left slightly behind on the glass. Stretching his shoulders back with his arms, muscles pulled, away from their previously hunched position. Coriolanus walked over to where Dr. Gaul was, who stood nearby another table at the center of the lab. This time, this one was far cleaner, made of what seemed to be a material of stainless steel. In her hands she carried a manila folder, or two, in her hands; her painted nails sifted through the papers carefully. She was writing something quickly down inside of it. He wanted to know, but he held his tongue. Gaul would tell him if it was something he needed to be aware of.
“And I’m not sure. Livia is still picking out her dress and I want to match with her.” He smiled at her.
“Aren’t you a romantic,” She gives him a look out of the corner of her eye, the blue one that matched his. It made his skin crawl, he hated the feeling of it. “Is your heart melting, Snow?”
Coriolanus hopes she sticks to her career as a Gamemaker, being a comedian looks like a bleak future for her.
The smile on his lips grew wider, a small laugh at her words, his hand reaching to cover his mouth slightly to muffle the sound in the large room.
“I wouldn’t say that just yet.”
He wouldn’t say it at all. Livia? Melt his heart? Sure, she could melt his eardrums when she had that obnoxious snort to her loud laughs. It made her sound like a pig, shipped straight to the Capital from the farms of District 10. That would defeat the purpose of why he married her in the first place. It would be the utmost betrayal to himself, after he had promised to close himself after–
“Since you have a date tonight,” His ears perked up immediately. “I’ll reduce the amount of work you have for today, I’ll be merciful.” He wouldn’t argue if she decided to give him more. She pressed a manila folder into his open hands, her grip was tight on it. This was a folder that not many eyes needed to be on. Taking it carefully from her hands, he raised it to his eyesight curiously, catching the sight of the project name written on top of it.
PROJECT: CAPTIVE – A.01 PROMETHEUS
Coriolanus brought his gaze back towards Dr. Gaul. He assumed he slipped a confused gaze at her, because before he could even ask her, she’s already speaking up:
“This is a project I had started around the time you were exiled in District 12.”
His jaw slightly tightened. She didn’t have to use that exact word to describe it.
“It’s far more… unique,” Her eyes rolled around the room as she sought out the word, the moment it landed on her tongue, she locked her sight immediately onto him. Gaul’s smile pulled a bit more at her cheeks, a festering excitement that was slipping out from her internal confines. The threat of teeth in her smile was no longer an attempt of niceties, but far more sinister in its intentions. Coriolanus would argue on a good day that both were the same, that Dr. Gaul’s cruelty was her being kind. “Than my other projects. Far more different than any of my other muttations, this is a beast of a different breed, but one that you and I know intimately well.”
So this was a human experimentation, Coriolanus deduced.
Dr. Gaul would never dare to refer to those below Capital ranks as something human, there was always something else she had to refer to them by. Animal, beast, plague, insect, if it stripped them of their humanity, she was eager to take it. They shared similar sentiments, but sometimes, he had to give them some form of distinct name to separate them. “I’ve actually grown quite fond of it. Usually, I’d handle its tests and exams, but you seem like you need a pick-me-up.”
It should make him disgusted at how easily she could see through him.
The older woman stepped further away from him, into one of the dark recesses of the room. Lab H05 was one of the main center labs within the Citadel, meaning it earned itself the privilege to have its layout be connected to other rooms, outside areas, halls, and the like. It just happened to be, the darker areas that Gaul was heading in were towards the direction of one of the elevators connected to the room. Coriolanus watched her body retreat into the dimly lit area, not quite following after her. He didn’t know why. His hands felt stiff with the folder in his hands. The pounding beat of his heart in his ears matched in tempo with the steps of her heels against the floor. If he was going to move, she was going to need to ask him. She knew too, the doctor knew her own footsteps, and she was very aware when others’ joined in. Turning around to look at where he still was, standing, watching, she looked back at him. Coriolanus could make out her faint silhouette in the dark, but Dr. Gaul’s blue eyes shone brighter in the dark. As if she had tapetum lucidum, how it reflected so wildly. She was not helping the rumors made against her, that questioned if she ever used herself for a subject of fascination.
“Come now, Coryo. You don’t want to waste time.”
A silence fell upon them both.
“Understood, I’m right behind you.”
Walking after her, Coriolanus descended the small set of stairs that she had gone down from, he stepped into the dimly lit area. The manila folder was still grasped tightly in his one hand, at his side. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t understand her. Yes, she said that she wanted to cheer him up, but he’d be a fool if he was to believe that’d was to be the only reason why she was doing this. Volumnia Gaul, telling confidential secrets because she cared for his well being? No, there was always something else. An ulterior motive she wished to serve, or a lesson she wanted to teach. When he was brought back from his sentence of being a peacekeeper, it was not because her heart broke over him. She was not weeping at him having to tread his feet into the muck and grime of District 12. It was because she was holding him up to an ambition that both him and her both wished to see.
“This one,” Dr. Gaul started her words, occasionally turning her head to the side to make sure he was still following her ( he was ). “Started out as a simple curiosity. I had to sit with myself quite a bit to figure out a punishment that would actually serve some productivity.” Her hands reached behind her, flicking at the folder that Coriolanus was holding. He opened up the folder, finally, to look through the report. Whatever the Doctor was gesturing vaguely in conversation, it would be more explicit in her writings. “Displays of cadavers, desecration of the human silhouette, trauma to the cerebrum, these punishments can only go for so long before new ideas must be made. If the rebels expect the same disciplinary action, you can expect them to gain a tolerance to it.”
Squinting at the paper, he leaned his head slightly down to get a closer look of the subject. A small photo was attached to the report by a paperclip, it was a person who seemed to be in a similar age group to his. They looked clean, proper - they wore an ironed, white button up shirt under a dark vest, with unique, yet simple earrings they donned on. Pearls and tiny opals that dangled from a gold chain earring. A family heirloom, if Coriolanus had to guess. They smiled widely in the photo. Their teeth weren’t perfect, their upper cuspid was a bit more pointed in comparison to all others.
They had once been a capital citizen, turned rebel, to… this.
“I wanted to truly push my mind forward, and see if the impossible would truly be… well, possible.” Dr. Gaul grinned at the end of the sentence. Coriolanus lifted the photo up, after hooking his gaze unto the former for a moment. It’s a shame, he thought to himself. How pretty they are, had they not tainted their mind with childish ideas they would have continued to live in the comforts that they were so comfortably lavishing in before. He was curious as to whose family they once belonged to. A filthy curiosity enticed him, a want to digest more at the report at the risk of tuning out Gaul’s feverish ramblings.
“Personally, I outdid myself.”
There was a small desire to curse her under his breath, the writing for the subject’s name was far too rushed and messy to read properly. Did she want him to read the report, or play word scramble?
Dr. Gaul’s steps had stopped, the white noise of her chatter turned to silence was enough to bring his head back from the report. She stood between him and the elevator, holding her hands in front of her, folded. Peeking to the side, the button for the down level was lit up in a glow of red. Her smile widened.
“Curiosity eating away at you, Coryo?”
It still made his skin crawl, everytime she used that name. How frightening it was, that it also brought him a strange sense of the coldest warmth.
“You’ve talked so vividly about them,” Not clear enough. “I want to see what makes you so excited about them.” He wants to see if they could come close to bringing him out of his frustrations. Fingers that touched the edge of the subject’s photo twitched in tempo with the small ding of the elevator. Doors opening, Dr. Gaul stepped to the side. Hands gestured, letting him know to step in first which he obliged. Yet, no other steps than his own followed him in. Coriolanus turned around, a puzzled look on his face when he noticed how Dr. Gaul was standing in the middle of the elevator’s doors.
“Expected me to come join you? You can’t be so attached to my hip, Coryo.” She laughed, her hands reached in between her surgical gown and work attire. Pulling out a set of keys attached to her worker’s ID, she tugged a key off. Dr. Gaul dipped her body slightly in to twist at a lock that had revealed another panel of floor buttons aside from the usual floor ones. This must have been the key designated for the Citadel’s researchers and engineers. He had a private key of his own, but that was reserved for Game Makers. Still in training, but Dr. Gaul had persuaded the others to give him his own copy. “I have other things that need tending to, so you’ll have to have your fun without me.” Pushing a floor button that was labeled C09, glowing red under her touch, she gave him her key. She pressed into Coriolanus’s free palm, closing his fingers to clasp around it.
“You can keep this one. I’ll ask for another copy.”
Was it because this one almost seemed rusted over to hell and back? Coriolanus wasn’t an idiot. He could feel the textured sensation of something that, usually, was supposed to be smooth metal.
“Thank you, Dr. Gaul.” He spoke softly back to her.
Dr. Gaul sent him another smile towards his way, the abominable sight of her gradually leaving his sight as the doors closed. A divide now between the both of them.
Instantly, a breath of air was released from Coriolanus. His head reeled back, eyes closed, leaning against the wall of the elevator. He was now by himself. Free from that imposing woman, he finally could be released from her watchful gaze. Always gauging him, examining him as if he, too, was another subject on her surgical table. Perhaps, in a strange, distant sense, he was. Which is why he likes it far more when their interactions are limited. Even if it makes him feel guilty if he hasn’t spoken to her for any prolonged amount of time.
Another breath, he brought his head back down, eyes open. Opening his hand to where the key was held in his hand. It was frighteningly warm in his hand, most likely from when both Dr. Gaul and him held onto it. The material of the key was dark in color, rust having formed around some of the edges. Spots of dark stains marred its dull shine, it almost looks black in contrast to the key’s natural dark hue. This most definitely was blood, now dried. In his head, Coriolanus could see the vivid picture in his head: Dr. Gaul barely bothering to remove her gloves after leaving the examination room, holding the key between sticky gloves. A sneer pulled on Coriolanus’s face. He pocketed the key away.
He wanted to focus on something else.
The weight of the manila report at his side stuck out glaringly obvious, he still had yet to fully read through everything. His fingers were still thumbing between one of the pages, bookmarking a random place in the report. Should he wait to see the project on his own? Give himself something ‘fun’ to surprise himself with? A discomfort prickled at the hairs on his neck. No, he didn’t like surprises too much. Surprises meant no control, and no control meant chaos that wasn’t under his hand. And what more could be asked, when what he needed to know was right here. Hands flipped back open the manila folder while he waited for the elevator to finish its descent.
On the first page, there was only one photo of the subject, before the project had started. Dr. Gaul was always so thorough, so there must have been more to see. And how he loved to be right, when the sight of more clipped on photos peeked through in between pages. He stopped at the sight of them. These had been nude, taken in what was most definitely an examination room. They must’ve been in captivity for a few days for how haggard they looked. Gleam completely gone, with only a dark emptiness seen on their face. Signs of minimal swelling on their left cheek from when they were hit by a peacekeeper when resisting arrest. Bags under the optics, suggesting either sleep deprivation or developed insomnia. His eyes lingered on the photos that took in zoomed in shots of identifiable beauty marks that were scattered around their body. One around the back of their left acromial, around the sternocleidomastoid, one on the left mammary gland, and another on the right femoral muscle. Unconsciously, his fingers traced along the edges of each photo as he examined them until they traced after the words of ink.
The objective of the project: engaging and testing pain receptors on the subject. By use of non-licensed medication and surgical operations, the subject’s NTRK1 gene was mutated to a certain extent to gain the closest imitation to Congenital Analgesia ( while still keeping the subject alive ). If Coriolanus recalled, in his textbooks, Congenital Analgesia was a condition that always was given to a patient by a pass down from the parent. It was never really something ‘made’, or ‘given’. He could understand now why Dr. Gaul was so pleased with herself for accomplishing this feat. Curiosity was beckoning him, wanting to see more of what the report entailed.
Pages dedicated to each operation, each test done. There were pain charts made, scales from 1 to 10, to test out the nerve receptors. Each test, the numbers on the chart went lower and lower; 10s that went to 9s, to the current lowest being a 6 for the majority of the subject’s body. The more sensitive areas, such as the frontal or the palmar of the body, were around 7 to 8 on the chart. Flipping to the back of the contents, there was a small note in Dr. Gaul’s handwriting.
Today, please take care of Project Prometheus’s nerve exams. The last surgical operation was done last month and they have just now fully recovered. Update the report by the end of today, to measure if there are any fluctuations on their pain receptors.
Sounded simple enough. If this was all he had to do today, then there was a chance he could clock out from work even earlier to give himself space before tonight’s event. A ding finally was heard from the elevator, he was here at Lab C09. Folder closed in his hands, his foot stepped out of the elevator and onto the floor. What a drastic difference Lab C09 had been in comparison to Lab H05. If it hadn’t belonged to Dr. Gaul, Coriolanus may not have been able to believe that this was an actual functioning lab. It almost seemed forgotten by the Citadel, half of the fluorescent lights not working, or blinking at different intervals. It bathed the floor in a very gray, almost vile green hue. The scent of copper and rust was far more noticeable, and the smell of medicine felt almost nauseous here. There were no grand columns in sight, and no endless amount of shelves dedicated to new specimens and ideas of creation. The floors were unkempt, specks of dirt packed into the corners of where the wall and once sleek tiles met. Occasional cracks on the floor, parts of the design broken and shattered into bits of ceramic. The halls were long, with endless doors that ( thankfully ) all were open, empty, or both. With the exception of the large corridor doors at the other end. He could make out the sight of Peacekeepers that stood on guard, near the corridor door and by the elevator entrance.
This definitely was Dr. Gaul’s more… uncensored labs.
Coriolanus took a few more steps into the lab and noticed the large stain of dried blood that dragged from where his feet stood, past the corridor doors. Eyebrows raised at the sight, but his eyes did not widen. Marvelous, the subject might still be rebellious. If this was to be the case, he’d be severely unimpressed. All these exams to change the NTRK1 and nothing done to affect the amygdala.
Sloppy work here, Dr. Gaul.
Pushing through the corridor doors, after giving the briefest of nods and acknowledgement towards the Peacekeepers, he found himself exactly where he needed to be. Entering an area that was entirely void of light, except for one thing.
A large window glass on the other side, showing the examination room on the other side. It lit up this half of the hall, shelves of varying medicines and chemicals lined against the walls of the examination room. Surgical tools were lined up high on the wall, out of reach, not yet pulled out and placed on the side. Today there was no operation to be done. Examination lights shone overhead, and under it was the examination table where Project Prometheus sat.
They sat down so compactly, so politely, knees folded to their chest and arms wrapped around them, their face leaned against the crevice their legs gave. The subject definitely had changed, physically, since the projects had begun. Their skin barely had the warm glow it had in their photo, had it not been for the peeks of color on their joints, he’d assume that there was no more blood rushing through their body. Their hair that once looked so well maintained, luxurious, was cut at awkward angles. Yet, it still managed to frame their face well enough. Figures, that was former Capital genes at work. Their body has taken significant damage since then. Scars of various shapes were scattered all across, bandages wrapped in some areas, and stitches that dragged around entire limbs, like their arms, thighs, feet, even one on their face. As if they were some over-played ragdoll that was patched up far too many times. There was no fight he could see from their eyes, and no anger. Was the blood on the floor halls really theirs, or did that belong to someone else?
This could not even be called anything, but a shell of a husk.
Coriolanus stood there, watching, taking in the sight of them. It barely felt like he was breathing. And that alone irritated him. It’s like his body was trying to make itself seem smaller; as if he was somehow bothering them. He sighed out his frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. They couldn’t even hear him from the thick glass, what would he be so concerned with? Bringing his hand back down, about to open the manila folder once again to compare their ID photo to their current state - he peeked at their form again.
He had been noticed by it.
His breath felt lodged in his throat, his original action now tossed to the side, as they and him both just… watched each other. Their eyes that had looked so sullen and distant before, were so focused and vigilant of him. But, they didn’t seem scared of him. Their body didn’t look tense, their expression didn’t twist into any wrinkles. What feeling was running through their body? Could they possibly feel anything? Coriolanus stepped away from the glass, slowly, and down further into the hall, to where the door of their examination room was. A peacekeeper stood guard near the heavy door, beside them a surgical gown, cap, goggles and gloves were on a hook. Excusing the other to the side, so he could reach and grab the attire to put on himself. Coriolanus questioned, as he tugged the latex rubber gloves on, if he still wanted to entertain the idea of holding their test today. Teeth grinded inside his jaw, he hated to admit weakness, but it was no lie that they unsettled him when they had stared back.
That probably contributed to why Dr. Gaul favored the project so much, both must take joy from bringing him such unease. A sigh hissed from his teeth, as he put the surgical mask on.
“I’ll be back out in just a moment. I’ll let you know if an emergency comes up.”
It’ll be easy work, and then he can leave.
Opening the door, the sterile smell of the room rushed past him as the metal door was moved from its tight seal and then closed heavily behind him. Their head had moved away from where the glass window was, turned to stare at where he stood near the door, their folder still in his hands. Thinly-veiled sweat was forming inside the gloves, with the silence that fell heavy in the room. He opened the folder.
“Good morning, Subject A01, I am–”
…?
Did they say something?
“...I’m sorry, did you say something?”
Another tense silence fell in the air.
“... That isn’t my name.” Its voice was quiet, slightly hoarse but not entirely. Unexpected, considering their length of stay here. His fingers pinched tightly at one of the pages.
“...What do you mean?” He was not going to call them by their Capital name. They had long since lost the right to use it, after rebelling against Panem.
“Dr. Gaul calls me something else.” Coriolanus was going to kill it if they did not clarify.
“And what does she call you?” This was the nicest tone he could muster.
They spoke it once into the air, still looking at him with those dead eyes of theirs. Had Dr. Gaul been so fond of it to have given it an entirely new name? And they accepted and went along with it? That didn’t feel right, from what he’s examined about them so far. They were a rebel, they had fought against a Peacekeeper, they were dragged around the halls bleeding.
And they gave up their old name?
It had shifted out of its cradled position, their legs dangled off the examination table and their arms were placed on their side. Coriolanus could see the patient gown they wore more clearly. It kicked its feet in the air idly, as it waited for his response.
… Do they even know the situation that they’re in?
“...Right. Well, do you know why I’m here?”
“Not really. I’ve never met you before.” Was context clues also something it gave up while in captivity? “I know the guards, and I know Dr. Gaul. I don’t think I know about you,” They’re a prisoner, it’d be counter-intuitive if people were giving them info about every single staff member here. His mask covered the lower half of his face, but he hoped the slight shift of facial muscle was enough to convey that was trying to smile towards them. He walked further into the examination room, closer to where it sat and where the shelves of drugs and medical equipment were lined up. Their stare was burrowing holes into his back, while he shifted around, opening and closing shelves and drawers to check inside for what he needed.
“Well, I am Dr. Gaul’s assistant. You can call me Snow,” He was not giving his first name to a former rebel. “I’m here today because Dr. Gaul is a bit busy today to handle your check-up, so I’ll be filling in her role.” Gloves shifted bottles around, turning them around to read the labels. The disinfectant, cotton swabs, tweezers, needles, rubbing alcohol, syringes, the bite-rag, marker, he had it all except the custom medicine that Dr. Gaul had made for it. In the instructions of how to construct their exam, Dr. Gaul had explicitly mentioned that they were to take specific medication, as they had helped keep it conscious at all times for operations and exams. It was needed so that they’d be able to relay the ratings, which is why Coriolanus was reading yet another prescription bottle in his hands, squinting in frustration.
“It’s this bottle over here.”
A delicate, scarred hand had pointed at another bottle that sat idly on the shelf. Coriolanus turned his head slightly, seeing the subject no longer on the examination table, standing behind him quietly. Not staring at him, they were entirely looking at where their hand pointed. They were only standing just a couple inches away from his body, careful not to touch him as they stood on the tips of their toes to point at the medicine. With this proximity, it was easier for him to get a closer look at them. The stitches on its body were done with thick, prominent threads; there were far more beauty marks he could pick out on their face that the photos didn’t display. The patient gown was made from a material far thinner than he expected, a visible silhouette could be seen from underneath the flimsy cloth. His mouth felt unusually dry.
A cold chill trickled down his spine. He barely noticed them. He doesn’t even think it made a sound when it moved.
“Careful, keep your space from me.” He spoke, a careful warning to their ears and a threatening promise on his. He didn’t want to risk being so close to them like this, he barely knew the extent of how violent the project could possibly be yet. Still, they listened, backing away from him and putting their hand back down to their side. Both it and him stared at each other again, the tense air dancing back inside the room. They looked as if they had wanted to say something, and Coriolanus, internally, felt almost violent for how demure they were being with him. It repulsed him, how it felt almost endearing if he looked at them for a second more.
“Is something wrong?” Eventually he bit the bullet, speaking first between the two of them. He can’t bear another moment of silence with it.
“... I don’t need a bite-rag. I don’t think I really scream much anymore.” They still had an issue with explaining context to him more, he’ll tell Dr. Gaul that needed some work lat– His jaw ticked… Why did he care about your abysmal social skills? It was a captive, it had no one to speak to other than their own captors. Pulling down their prescription from the shelf, a dark, thick liquid, he said in return: “It’s best to have it on hand, just in case you need it. Now, return back to the examination table.” For a split second, he thought he could see their gaze soften at him. Were they seriously entertaining the idea that he was being nice to them? Coriolanus just didn’t want to deal with their sounds while he worked. It’d be like trading one screaming fit for another, for when he had to go on his date with Livia later in the evening.
They nodded, and followed his command, walking back to sit on top of it. Their body was sitting in his direction though, observing, waiting for him. Coriolanus still felt unsure about them, but… it was strange, their obedience. It made him suspicious of its intent with all this. Trailing back to the center of the examination room, he placed all the tools on a metal tray. Pulling out an exam stool from under one of the tables, he set the syringe to the cap of its prescription. He pulled the plunger of the syringe up, watching as the barrel filled up with medicine, until it sat nicely. The needle left smoothly from the cap, and a drop of the liquid dangled at the edge of it. This form of silence he liked far more better.
“...Do you have family, Dr. Snow?”
So close. Coriolanus flicked the needle harshly, the drop hitting somewhere else. He placed the ready syringe down, and picked up the black marker. Turning back towards them, their head rested in their palms, watching him intensely.
“That’s none of your concern. Now please, remove your gown so we can get started on the examination.” Grabbing the stool to pull it underneath him, he got comfortable in the seat while it moved to get up. As their hands reached behind them to undo the tie around their waist first, it still spoke ( much to his chagrin ).
“I was just wondering since Dr. Gaul usually talks whenever she comes to visit.” That explained why their throat was not as hoarse as he was expecting. Dr. Gaul was treating her trials with them as a morning brunch. “She sometimes talks about her day, or talks about her family.” They loosened the tie around their waist, the fabric more flowy around their lower body. Coriolanus stared intently, taking in the first peek of skin. Looking past the scars, despite the stitches pulling at parts of their skin, and the dented scars, their skin looked soft, malleable. They must’ve been popular on weekend nights, back then. Their hands reached up to undo the tie around their collar. Rather than watching him while he worked, it was his turn to watch them. There was that beauty mark on their left acromial. Eyes leisurely trailed back up to their fingers, the smallest note with how it fumbled around behind them to untie the flimsy string. Their movements were clumsy, in his eyes, which almost surprised him. “She likes to talk about her three kids often.”
Coriolanus looked away from their stitched fingers, confusion on his face.
“Dr. Gaul only has two kids.” He’s seen the photos she has in her office. She has two sons, both who have gone on to have families of their own. Not once has she mentioned a third kid, Coriolanus isn’t even sure it was possible at her age. Didn’t menopause usually affect a person’s chances of getting pregnant? Maybe it was a secret child she had abandoned at the maternal ward while dropping off her resignation as an obstetrician.
“No, she has three. She told me their names: Caius, Martius, and Coriolanus.”
Oh.
Oh, now that’s…
“I see. You must be closer to Dr. Gaul than I am.”
He didn’t know what to really say to that. There was really nothing for him to go and argue about, especially with the patient. Coriolanus couldn’t quite outright say that the third child was him, especially when he specifically told them to refer to him by his last name. And if he revealed that this was an entire lie on Dr. Gaul’s end, he wasn’t quite sure how the woman would react for doing so. It wasn’t his place, when he had no idea what Gaul had wanted to achieve. He understood the physical punishment and hypothesis being put upon Project Prometheus, but he had yet to understand where the emotional, and the mental, aspect of this punishment was. Dr. Gaul will tell him if it was needed, or he’ll figure it out based on his own conclusions. That must be one of the purposes Dr. Gaul had assigned this task to him.
“Alright. I’m done.”
Coriolanus blinked. He didn’t even realize he lost focus on them, he let out a small exhale as he lifted himself from the exam stool, marker ready in hand.
“Right, for the next step of this exam, I need to…”
Words trailed off for him.
What an entirely different view it was, from before, looking at them only from the back. From behind, it was just read to him as a large canvas of skin that had already been stained and painted on. Nothing that gave way to what person under the flesh could be. Yet, the front… There was more to regard and take note of, a far more different feeling than just having viewed from the photos alone in the reports. If he were to ignore the marks left on their body, had they stayed perfect from before, he could’ve made the argument about their body being more alluring than the average Capital citizen. That familiar, dry feeling touched his throat again. What a waste, for genes like that to be wasted on a rebel. There were more beauty marks and moles in the front, along with more stitches and scars. Coriolanus could see the surgical scars that were healing between their pectoralis major area. A curiosity rose, questioning how scarred tissue would feel under his gloves. He raised an eyebrow, as his gaze dared to move to a lower section on their body. Must be for easier mapping, that Dr. Gaul decided it was best to have their pubic area shaved clean.
“...Dr. Snow, are you okay?”
His tongue darted out to lick his dry lips under the surgical mask.
“Fine, just thinking about Dr. Gaul’s instructions.” He was going to go insane before he could even head to the fundraiser tonight. Coriolanus reached his free hand out, hovering it over their shoulder area, guiding them to stand closer to the area between the exam table, and his stool. He took note, that despite the way their body has changed since their captivity, their body still held a warmth that radiated off from their skin. “Stand here, please. For this next step, I’ll be using this marker here to map out the different muscles and areas on your body. Are you familiar with this?”
The subject nodded, a yes from their lips.
Good.
The sound of the marker cap popping off filled in the lack of words on Coriolanus’s part, the black cap falling on the tiled floor and rolling off to a dark, distant corner of the room. “For today, we’ll only be focusing on the external pain chart. Meaning skin surface only,” He lifted the subject’s hair, pushing up against the subject’s head, strands that were long enough to block full access to the neck. Bringing the marker up, he pressed down the chiseled tip of alcoholic ink on the subject’s skin, making the first section of dotted lines. Writing on their skin in careful, small letters, the areas that compromised their neck; the semispinalis capitis, the levator scapulae, the rhomboid minor–
“How long have you worked for Dr. Gaul?”
Fingers nearly stumbled in drawing when the muscle stretched in movement, he lifted the marker carefully away from its skin. The idea of putting in Gaul’s suggestion box the order of a mouth gag was becoming all the more tempting to him.
“It doesn’t concern you.” Coriolanus responded, coolly.
He pressed the marker back down on its skin, moving himself to the anterior of its body. Between his gloved fingers, he held their chin. The muscle limp in his hands, letting him lift their chin up to show more, exposing the unfolded expanse of their skin. The project was an annoying one, but at the least,they were a pliant one. The black dotted lines drew itself across the subject’s body: the sternocleidomastoid, the sternohyoid–
“How has your day been so far, Dr. Snow?”
Would Dr. Gaul throw him to the curb if he strangled one of her projects?
Coriolanus lifted himself slightly from his leaned down angle, his fingers that once lifted its chin up, had pulled their chin back down to look at him eye to eye. Its gaze stared back at him with such emptiness, a lack of anything to be seen, no anger, no defiance, no discomfort, not even joy. His eyebrows narrowed down slightly as he took in the face that held no question to how, and what, manner he held their body in. Were they trying to please him? Make his guard drop down by asking questions, hoping that he’d become more sympathetic towards them?
“Dr. Gaul isn’t here. You are under no requirement to attempt conversations like you’ve done with her.” He spoke, trying his best attempt at sounding sympathetic to their ears. That would be the easiest explanation. The soul of them was sucked out by Dr. Gaul forcing them into an illusion of a grotesque socialite. That’d explain away the project’s incessant speaking.
Yet, the subject had tilted their head under his fingers. The slightest push against his grasp.
“... Do you not like talking, Dr. Snow? Dr. Gaul always looks so happy when she’s talking.”
So they were trying to suck up to him. He locked his teeth. And to think, he was giving them a chance of redemption, by assuming that they had been conditioned to engage in meaningless conversation. Maybe he was wrong about their obedience. There was still a spark of a rebel within them regardless of their time, their experiences, in captivity.
“I only ever see Dr. Gaul, so I got excited to see someone new. I’m sorry for upsetting you,”
They could’ve fooled him with that tone of voice. They sounded as dead as their eyes had looked. Yet, Coriolanus bit his bottom lip as the doubt touched his head; the subject’s stare, if he gazed deeply enough he felt as if he could almost make out a sullenness to them. Were they legitimately apologetic? He didn’t want to even know the answer, he just wanted to finish this job as quickly as possible. He let go of their chin, releasing it. Gloved fingers now traced the space between their shoulder and collarbone, the subject angling their neck to the other side to give him room. He brought the marker back down to their skin, more dotted lines appearing under his wake.
“... What exactly is your relationship to Dr. Gaul, if I may ask?” He hated them, he decided. He hated how quickly they managed to rope him into this dumb small talk. It was almost audible, the sound of the subject blinking, feeling their gaze boring under the layers of his clothes. Did he say the wrong thing? Did they not want conversation? He adjusted the weight of his stance, uncomfortable under the silence the subject had unwillingly placed him in. Was he not doing what they wanted, was that not enough for them?
“Dr. Gaul is…” Their words trailed off. They were trying to find the words, unsure of what to say to him. They most likely didn’t want to try and insult her, considering her assistant was in the room with them. They don’t want to risk possibly earning more punishment. Project Prometheus may have been smarter than what he initially assumed. Coriolanus moved back to the posterior, hands trailed themselves across the subject’s shoulders, feeling, to remind him of the muscle underneath before he marked it down. Trapezius.
“Dr. Gaul is my caretaker, I think.”
Well isn’t that something unique.
If the subject had decided to say captor, overseer, punisher, he wouldn’t have cared. It would’ve been honest. Caretaker? That was something different, that was something sympathetic. The thought of them turning this twisted dynamic into something heartfelt, fell sour on his tongue. It made him feel repulsion towards them. Why bother to lie? “Tell me about that.” His voice was soft, inviting the project to open themselves to him. As the marker continued to mark their skin, Coriolanus took one of its arms under his hand. The subject’s fingers twitched slightly, when he brought his hand under theirs. Their hand was not that big in comparison to his own, unable to fully fill out of his palm. The fingertips were usually the more sensitive parts, when it came to sensations. He hummed. Adductor pollicis.
“...I’m not sure how to describe it well.” They sounded unsure. Spending this extended amount of time with them, Coriolanus could make out the slight tonal differences they had in their voice. It was very small, though. The muscles in his hands seem to slightly tense.
“Do your best for me.”
Their fingertips, the slightly yellowed nails, tapped slightly at the latex material of his gloves. Almost as if fidgeting to gather the words, the right ones, to say to him.
“Dr. Gaul has always been… someone there, I suppose.” Because she has to. “The guards are there too, but they don’t really notice me in the way Dr. Gaul does.” He wrote down on another part of the subject’s arm, drawing another dotted line. Brachioradialis. “Even though the tests kind of hurt, but I’m getting used to it now, she’s been the only one so far to give me a name, a birthday, check up on me, tell me about her day,” He was almost impressed at how their were trying to upsell the ‘normalcy’ of their captivity. A new name and birthday? Maybe the secret third child of Dr. Gaul wasn’t him, but actually them instead. He almost laughed aloud at the prospect of it. Coriolanus turns to the other side of their body, taking the other arm of the subject to write on after finishing the other. Biceps brachii. “That’s like a caretaker, right?” And now it was asking for his confirmation? It truly does want to appease him. He let out another hum, as if he was thinking to himself when he was going to go along with their delusions. “It sounds like Dr. Gaul cares a great deal for you.” He lied to them.
Making his back to the anterior of the subject’s body, he stood in front of them, the subject tilting their head up to him. Project Prometheus was shorter, in comparison to him, standing at eye level against his chest. Latex touched the area of the linea alba, Coriolanus kept his gaze steady on them and they did the same. There was a silence that fell between them, but it felt so uninviting to him now that he finally had it. The subject still held their indifference, their apathy, and he wanted to know why it bothered him so much when he should like how easy of a prisoner they were being. No, there had to be something more. There was always something more. His fingers dragged down their skin, and his marker followed behind, writing down the names of the muscles he touched. The subject had moved their arms, and Coriolanus tensed for a second, thinking they were finally going to react, going to grab him, hit him, something – yet, their arms shifted away from the angle of his body, moving in to hold the muscles of the pectoralis major up in their hands, cupping them. They were making more room for him to write on their upper abdomen.
Coriolanus loathed them.
Had he had half the control, he would’ve smacked the stitched hands away. He liked it far more when they acted like a ragdoll, instead of this game of pacification it was trying to play. Writing down on the external oblique aponeurosis, he brought his hands back up their skin until it rested under their wrists. He held both their wrists on either hand. “Please, bring your hands down so I can continue mapping.” The words came out more as a whisper than he had intended. They instantly had listened to his command, letting their arms fall back on either side and their chest exposed to him. His eyes lingered briefly on the sight, taking in the small details that made the subject unique. The beauty mark on their left mammary gland, now in his line of sight. No longer blocked by the limit of only just a photo. There was that dry feeling in his mouth again.
Carefully, bringing a hand up, gauging their reaction, he held one of the mammary glands in his free hand and a marker up in the other. Judging their face, they seemed neutral, no frown or smile, no wrinkle, no squint. He could assume there must have been discomfort under those dark pits for eyes. He knew that’s what he felt, doing this right now. Coriolanus wondered if it would have been better or worse, if Project Prometheus were to be more… reactionary.
“Let me know if anything bothers you.” Dotted lines followed after his hand. He’d take it, the laborious small talk. It was much more preferred right now than this tortuous silence that had fallen between them. Thick and constricting, had it gone on any longer, Coriolanus knew he would drive himself internally insane if he was to be left alone to his own thoughts. If Project Prometheus had done nothing while he was holding onto their very own breasts in his hands. Had it been any other person, they would’ve squirmed under his touch. Possibly even a twitch to unconsciously move away, as the marker moved against the skin of the areola. The mapping of the right gland was dotted and marked completely.
“You don’t bother me.”
Now, that felt deliberate.
Ink halted, stopping after writing out the final letter of the pectoralis minor. The words were written next to the beauty mark he had noted before. Coriolanus was tempted to make dotted lines around the area, as a place of special interest, though marks like these were no major muscle or nerve. Blue eyes had looked up through thick lashes, he slightly lifted his craned head up to get a better look at the subject. Peering towards their face, he didn’t know why he expected anything different. It was the same look of disinterest, the broken lights hung above them casted a haunting shadow over their face. Did he also look similar, when they stared back at him? In certain angles, despite the unnerving look the room had given them, Coriolanus might’ve thought their eyes seemed naturally soft towards him. Innocent, maybe.
Did they see nothing wrong with what he was doing? … Or had all the tests and operations ruined not just their nerves, but fried them, that their sense of danger seemed near non-existent?
Was this another form of appeasement that it was trying to pull on him?
Unconsciously, his hands had released themselves, finally, from holding onto Project’s Prometheus’s breasts. Both now marked, his free hand slid down the expanse of their abdomen. The ridges and bumps of their scars and stitches were felt briefly, the full grasp of the sensation blocked by the barrier of latex rubber wrapped around his fingers. Not once did he look away from the subject as his hands made its way down, and neither did Project Prometheus. His hand stopped at the tensor fasciae latae. Something was wrapping itself around the cavity of his chest, making the activity of breathing a difficult feat for him to do. Coriolanus didn’t know what he was doing. Was he trying to garner a bigger reaction from it? An attempt of possibly stirring violence, even?
Maybe it was delaying his own discomfort, he realized. Looking down, he stared to see the spread of skin below that had no splotches of black ink. They were shorter than him, he’d have to get down on his knees if he wanted to have clear and easy access to mark its legs. How humiliating… Having risen up through the ranks and bringing the Snow family back to its rightful place of acclaim and fortune; only to fall back down on his knees to a prisoner, a former rebel. If the other families caught wind of this, he’d never hear the end of it.
Reluctantly, still holding onto their hip, his body moved itself to the floor. Knees touched against the uneven grout of the tiles, the position a bit awkward. He was thankful, for the surgical gown he wore, that the vile floor of the examination room wouldn’t stain against his clothes. Tracing his hand down to the stitch mark path of their leg, he rested it at the back of their thigh. Coriolanus tilted his head up, ready to command that Project Prometheus moved their leg more towards him. But, his words fell into a silent, held breath as he gazed up at them from his position. The shadow that had cascaded over their face briefly from before was now entirely enveloped around their body. Sickly green fluorescent lights shone above their head, akin to a haloing effect. Illuminated around the edges of their body, their hair, the subject still looking at him. Only him, and nothing else. A thrumming noise was loud in his ears; it felt dangerous. It felt like a warning that something was wrong here. He had felt it before.
Project Prometheus moved its leg forward, more into him, without a word ever spoken between the two of them. How pliant it was with him.
He pressed the marker against their skin as thank you, dipping his head back down to their thigh. It would be risky, if he lost focus. There was still so much he had yet to know of the subject, the layers that were contained behind the flimsy shield of flesh and tissue. He dotted the area of the vastus medialis, careful not to press the ink against the subject’s stitches so as not to irritate the healing skin there. Maybe its attempts of appeasement were working on him. Not once did he think he’d have a shred of enough care to think about the possibility of ink seeping into their wounds.
He marked down the region of the knee. Patella.
“...You’re a very gentle person, Dr. Snow.” The subject spoke quietly, in a whisper just loud for him to hear. “You treat me so carefully, I barely feel a thing when you hold me.”
It mistook his lightweight hands for kindness. Reality was that he was just wary about setting them off.
“Does Dr. Gaul not treat you in the same manner?” The words came out softly from him. Reaching now the ankle of the subject, gloved hands reached down underneath the sole of its foot, lifting it up for better writing access. Instinctively, Project Prometheus placed their hands on either side of his shoulders so as to not fall. Their body leaned itself more into him, using him as a steady weight of support. The proximity of their small body bent over his, the glare of the fluorescent lights was entirely swallowed up, casting a dark shadow over him, blocking the light from reaching him. Could they feel, under their ragged fingers, the tenseness in his body at their action? If the subject wanted to, they could easily go in to attack him in this vulnerable position. He’d do the same if he was in their position. He continued to write, marker steady in hand. There would be no satisfaction to be gained for the subject, in seeing him stumble and cower.
He wrote the words ‘abductor hallucis’ on their foot.
“She… does not treat me rough, no. If I had to describe it, I think the word for it is more… ‘inanimate’.” He doesn’t quite recall if a new law was passed that required captors to treat prisoners humanely. It sounded as if it was trying to recall certain words again. Should the exam go entirely smoothly with no problems, he might feel generous enough to convince Dr. Gaul to bring Project Prometheus a dictionary for them to study up on. Not like it would do much. It wasn’t like they had anyone to really practice their knowledge on.
Coriolanus wondered what the prisoner was exactly before all this, back when they were formerly Capital. They lacked the air of dignity and ignorance that most Capital elites donned well, but maybe that could be attributed to their decay while staying here. Or perhaps the prisoner had come from a small, simple family. The kind that handled all the manual labor that the Capital never liked to speak loud about. The workers who were hardly ever seen, or acknowledged. That could explain why he never heard any recent fuss over a family’s child being ‘sent away’. No one would ever care for a background prop.
It held onto his shoulders more tightly, as he adjusted the subject’s position. It didn’t want to topple over him.
Project Prometheus's right foot now marked accordingly, he placed its foot back down on the rotten floor. Ready to reach his hand to hold onto their left, the subject moved without the need for his touch. The left leg was gestured forward for him. How sweet of them to realize a pattern. “I don’t mind it, though. As long as she still talked to me.” How fascinating. The subject was pacified by the easy act of conversation. Such a simple thing to be pleased by, Coriolanus could think they were joking. Regardless of how things were going so far, he still didn’t forget it. The bloodstains on the halls was something he could not erase so easily. That suggested, no, it told him, that Project Prometheus had something up their sleeve still. Though, nothing had occurred. Nothing had happened because they were still speaking to each other. Coriolanus continued to write on its foot. Lumbrical.
“...Do you get upset if she doesn’t speak to you?”
He couldn’t help but ask.
He wanted to know. He needed to know.
“...I get lonely, and sad.” Was it trying to downplay its emotional reactions to him? “I wonder if it's because I did something wrong to upset her.” If a prisoner of his tried to fight back numerous times during their captivity, he’d get annoyed too. It was strange, though. Coriolanus knew that morals and values were of no concern for Dr. Gaul, especially against rebels. Any torture, punishment, placed on them was not seen as being done onto another person, but just another animal, a specimen in her collection. It would not be above Dr. Gaul to cut off a limb, or two, to get a prisoner to stop fighting. So… why not do the same here? Perhaps, this form of mental and emotional punishment was more lethal than he assumed. Another curious test from the mad woman, it was impossible to ever understand her whims.
“Sometimes, I think it might be one of her tests.”
Coriolanus didn’t say those words.
He didn’t like this. Such a statement, spoken so simply, brought him a sick swirl of unease.
The movement of ink had halted, yet his mind continued to race. The thin hairs at the back of his neck stood at its ends, and he held tightly onto the marker in his hand. Quietly, carefully, he placed the plantar surface of Project Prometheus’s foot back down on the uneven tiles below the both of them. Reaching his hands up to his shoulders, where the subject’s extensor retinaculum were, he held onto it firmly. The subject put up no sign of objection. Sweat was slowly building up under the tight material of the gloves he donned on, but it was not a sweltering warmth. It was a cold, clammy sensation.
“What do you mean by ‘one of her tests’?” Punctuating the words at the end, he kept his tone inquisitive, curious. Perhaps, a dabble of suspicion. Not towards the subject, but more towards the matter. What was needed in this situation was caution, and he’d be a gutted fool if he was to let the rebel become aware of how much the question startled him to his core. For right now, he’d play the gentle, confused assistant that it assumed of him before. He already told the lie of it knowing Dr. Gaul better than he did.
“Her tests,”
It spoke as if he knew! He knew very well what it was. What once was a flash of fear, had become a steady stream of anger. He knew because he is Dr. Gaul’s assistant. It was his job to follow in the steps she’s placed out for him, and more. Why would a prisoner, a subject, know about the ways Dr. Gaul operated? How much does Dr. Gaul tell it in these ‘conversations’?
It made him sick, that the lie he told before could actually become true.
“I never notice it until it’s done, until she tells me at the end. She never shares the results with me.” For once, he is tempted to strip his pride and beg for more details. “Most days, it’ll be physical tests, like today. Others, it’s more… talking, or writing.”
“Writing?”
It came out quickly before he could properly think his words over. He doesn’t recall seeing possible writing exams in Subject A01’s report. To be fair to himself, he did skim it briefly since he was only just now introduced to the project. There wasn’t much time for him to familiarize himself with all the tiny details written inside. At least, the things that were legible.
“Dr. Gaul hands me scraps of paper and just asks me to write what I think. Like uh, a journal…I guess.” Keeping a diary couldn’t be the only test Dr. Gaul was having it do. If writing random streams of thought was enough to be intellectually challenging, he wouldn’t be seeing students at the University fighting to win passing grades. “I don’t understand the reason why, and I never remember what I write. My memory is not the best.” It was giving him an excuse to try and shift the conversation. How funny it was, trying to take control of the situation. He’d never let such a thing happen. In this examination room, there was only one person and a subject, the dynamic that was at play was clear. The grip Coriolanus had on their extensor retinaculum tightened, an unconscious movement on his part. Project Prometheus had taken in a soft breath of air at the action, the sound loud enough between the both of them. Had it not come from a prisoner, what a sweet sound it could’ve been.
“Could you explain it to me,” His voice came out softly, despite the gnawing irritation that he held back. The tight grasp he had loosened, one hand stroking down a careful thumb down the stitched wrist of the subject in gentle circles. He shifted in his kneeled position, adjusting to a more comfortable weight as the layers he wore started to wear at him, an uncomfortable shift. Wearing the surgical uniform could be sweltering. Tilting his head up slightly to gaze up at the subject, praying that his eyes did not betray and reveal his inner thoughts. “Try to remember.”
Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a slight falter, a tremble, in the dark optics of Project Prometheus. Its supercilium furrowed just the slightest inch upwards; did it look apologetic? The first visible change of expression he’s witnessed in the time he’s spent here in this examination room, and it’s one of regret. The subject’s fingers twisted itself into the fabric of his surgical gown, opening its mouth partially as they sought the right sound, the right word. He could make out the faint peeks of its canines.
“... I’m sorry, Dr. Snow. I can’t remember at all,” They breathed out, in admission, surrendering. It treated it as a guilty confession.
“Not a thing?” He whispered softly to them, prompting them to speak more. Coriolanus applauded himself internally, for how sympathetic he sounded.
The subject shook its head.
“My memory is not good.” Again, it reaffirmed its previous statement.
Was his question that hard? Surely, specks of small details, flashes of imagery, that would be sufficient enough of an answer for him. He wasn’t asking for a full essay of their inner workings ( though, he wouldn’t mind it ). However, as both their eyes continued locked in a stare, his thumb slowed its movements. The leathered finger stopping at the center junction of its stitches, the feel of the raised, textured skin apparent under the feel of the material. Project Prometheus was being sincere. Its face hadn’t changed, its body had not moved away from him. Dare he say, the minimal space between them; something he did not mind earlier before, had become much more apparent in his feverish mind. The subject answered him so honestly, it made his suspicions of before seem so ridiculous now. One thing did nag at him though, the writing, the insistence of journaling, the memory.
…
“... Do you remember how long you’ve been here?” Two years ago, Coriolanus recalled. Two years ago, that was when he was abandoned in District 12. When Dr. Gaul had started the experiment on Subject A01, busying herself with curiosities while he was drowning himself in depravities and vices, waiting out like a dog for some form of mercy to reach him.
A new, tense silence consumed them both. He watched the subject carefully, taking note of the slightest movement that could give any indication of anything more. Tracing with his eyes, following how Project Prometheus’s cuspid snagged at their chapped bottom lip. A faint flush of red spread across the muscle, from the pressure exerted on it. Unconsciously, it reminded him of how dry his own mouth felt, the hoarse sensation in his throat. He darted out his own tongue for a brief moment to wet his own mouth, hidden underneath the surgical mask he wore. Nothing was being said between them, but yet there was so much being told. A fierce feeling was soaring, running through the veins of Coriolanus; he knew what it meant and he feared for it. Not for what the answer could be, but what it possibly could bring up.
“You don’t remember how you got it here at all, do you?” His voice was so hushed, spoken as if taboo. It gave him the same feeling of it, the rush as the blood was entering his head and his heartbeat loud in his ears.
A form of dissociative amnesia.
Project Prometheus had developed gaps in memory due to an extended amount of isolation and exposure to severe trauma. It all clicked in Coriolanus’s head. He understood now what Dr. Gaul was attempting to achieve in her games with the subject. The tests, the daily conversations, the journal writing – Dr. Gaul was examining the subject’s mental decay as part of the Project’s ongoing research. Not only has the woman deteriorated and changed the way the prisoner’s nerves had worked, but their mind as well. Is continuing the Project even viable to do anymore? It was a form of punishment. Would it be ethical to operate on a being of flesh, when the subject no longer knew what it was being punished for? The question would most likely give Dr. Gaul a kick of joy. She loved to ponder questions worthy of debate. Coriolanus wouldn’t put it past the woman if she already gave the inquiry out to one of her classes in a lecture hall.
“I vaguely do,”
His eyebrows rose in interest.
“But only in subtle feelings.”
Nevermind.
“I think I experienced some form of confusion. And bits of anger, too. Dr. Gaul… For a moment, I used to be so scared of her. Now, I can’t even remember the reason why.”
Project Prometheus’s indifference, Coriolanus realized, it was not just solely based on apathy. What had become of it was a blank state, unsure of how to process things so the mind refused to process it all. But, it was still something highly susceptible to influences, shown in how Project Prometheus had become conditioned like Pavolv Dog, to associate Dr. Gaul’s silence with anger and disappointment, and her socialness with satisfaction and joy. It all was dawning on him. He could see it now, why Dr. Gaul was so disturbingly fascinated by this project. Gloved hands moved away from the subject’s wrist, and reached out to lay in gentle manner against the side of their bare thighs. The subject allowed him to, never raising a sign of objection. Could he teach it to experience anger once more, when he treated their body like this? Maybe discomfort, disgust, despair - he wanted to show their blank canvas of a mind what it felt like to fully immerse themselves in these ugly emotions. He knew why they were like this, but there still was a lingering crumb of vexation directed at the subject. Somehow, in their newfound state, they still felt far more free than he ever did; how they almost felt nothing, and he had to feel everything.
And yet, there was another thought that touched him. He wondered, if he spent enough time with the subject, could he too, be able to condition them to other things. They thought of him as merciful, kind, in comparison to Dr. Gaul. Could he make Project Prometheus worship him, and in the same quiet breaths they were fond of, resent him? The thought of making them accustomed to anticipating his attendance, and lamenting his absence sounded tempting.
How nice it would be, to have someone other than a deranged crone enjoy his presence.
Tigris certainly didn’t anymore.
Coriolanus rose himself from the ground, gripping on the meat of Project’s Prometheus’s flesh to lift him. Under his touch, the pliant stretch of skin and tissue made the subject remove their hands from his shoulders. Another faint breath escaped their exhale. It was a sound he was slowly getting used to. Back to their original height difference, he no longer had to crane his head up to look at the subject. The subject had to lift their head up to look up at him, now. What did Project Prometheus see, in their gaze as they stared at him, Coriolanus thought. Was he too, consumed in shadow and bathed under the gritty lights of the examination room like they once had?
“We’re done with the mark-up.” It took him a moment to move away from the subject. “We’ll move to holding the nerve exam now, after I administer a low dosage of your medication.”
The uncapped, black marker was placed back down on the metal tray, aside from the examination table. Replacing its empty space was now the syringe he had filled out before, the dark color swishing as he picked it up. The needle gleamed under the fluorescent light. Turning his back around, Project Prometheus had already sat themselves up nicely on the edge of the examination table for him. Their legs dangled off, their hands held at the edges of the worn-out leather cushion, eyes fixated on his person. They were waiting for him. He’s almost bothered, how easily the subject could anticipate his next set of commands. He hoped that this was just due to routine, not because he had become easy to read. Coming up to meet them there, the only sound that filled the air was the sole of his shoes stepping against the tiles. Gloved fingers reached to grab at the jaw of Project Prometheus, the syringe held close to their face. It shone particularly brilliant, mere inches away from their face. The subject showed him no fear, no resistance, despite the way the skin of the cheeks had moved under his grasp.
Already, he wanted to break them.
“Show me where to inject you.”
He’d be sweet, Coriolanus would let them pick where it was most comfortable for him to inject the medication in. Project Prometheus complied immediately to him, holding on the hand that held their needle to adjust the position. They guided him to the back of their neck, moving their hair to make space. To reward their compliance, he pricked the syringe quickly under the skin, careful not to touch an artery or nerve. The dark liquid inside the barrel slowly filled out, emptying itself as he pushed the plunger down. The subject did not let out a sound, a favorable contrast to Livia, who waited for him outside these Citadel walls.
He was going to mold them into something useful.
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#tbosas fic#thg series#thg fic#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#volumnia gaul#tw medical#medical horror#fanfic#.// ♡ basil's archive#. // ♡ rubatosis series#its insane how much i wrote for this first chapter lmao#its like 30 pages on google docs#i am obsessed with this man#i really wanted this chapter to be a focus of snow & reader building their dynamic and bond before we jump off the deep end#i am really excited to write the coming chapters
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Keep On Waiting
Type - One-Shoty Blurb!
Verse - Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n (Bffs era <3)
Word Count - 1.2k
Warnings - Some cuss words, that's all!
A/N - There's so much pining in this one (eeee!!!) I'm so excited for y'all to read it! Also, Merry Christmas in advance to all of you who celebrate!!
MASTERLIST | Please rb to share!
The sound of hot milk pouring into the ceramic cups was music to Harry's ears. He stirred some hot chocolate in the pair of cups, the saucepan long forgotten to be put in the sink. Hooking his fingers through the cup handles, he turned around and started walking to the living room with a hop in his steps -- the Christmas ambience that Y/n had put on adding to his mood.
"Here you go," he said while handing one of the cups to his best friend, who's glasses were pushed high up the bridge of her nose as she wrapped the gifts scattered on his dining table. "Of course, darling! You're welcome," he sarcastically exclaimed after a while at the lack of appreciation from her.
Their families were out and about to attend a friend's wedding anniversary party, and Y/n had come over at Harry's when she got his call begging her to come over and help him wrap the presents. If she had known that by 'help' he'd meant that she would literally be wrapping all of his presents, she wouldn't have gotten all of her stationary and brought her own gifts to wrap at his place, in the first place.
Y/n looked up at him with a glare in her eyes. "I'm sat here, wrapping not just mine but your presents also, since hours! Did you say, 'thank you' to me, once?" She shouted at him, slapping his arm repeatedly.
"It's not my fault you're so slow," Harry grumbled under his breath, a smile slipping from the grasp of his dimpled cheeks when she gasped loudly.
Pushing the chair behind her, Y/n stood up as if about to kill him. "How dare you -- You little piece of absolute shit!" She shouted again, betrayed. "Wrap your own fucking presents, a-and drink my hot-chocolate too! I'm leaving!" She slammed the scissors down on the wooden table before she could stab Harry with them and turned, not actually wanting to leave because the first sip of that hot chocolate had her forgetting of all her troubles.
"Y/n, y/n!" He scrambled to get up, dropping the roll of gift-wrapping papers in the process. "I'm sorry and I'm- I- Oh Jesus! I thank you!" He stuttered, standing tall in front of her so she wouldn't escape him. His hold on her elbow was still tight and with the way she was looking at him with her big eyes, Harry wished they were standing under a mistletoe right then and there.
A spurt of laughter fell from her mouth, catching Harry off-guard. "Of course, darling! You're welcome!" She laughed, ridding her arm of his hold and molding her body against his in a hug, unable to stop her laughter when she felt how rigid his body was.
"I fuckin' hate you," Harry chuckled, hugging her back and swaying them side to side.
His eyes landed on the Christmas tree in the corner, seeming to be glittering with the way he and Y/n had decorated the tree with flickering lights. He took in a deep breath, resting his head in the crook of her neck. How perfect this moment was, with Y/n in his arms wearing a sweater matching to his, and the holiday coziness.
"Harry?" He heard her call to him softly and his cheeks flushed in his dream. "Harry!" She shouted, and he jerked back only to find her chuckling. "Where did you get lost?" She asked, not really looking for an answer as she silently walked back to the dining table, sitting on the chair that had now lost its warmth, and began humming along with whatever tune that was playing on the TV.
Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, and she feared that he was going to hear it. Her breathing was a bit heavy, as if she'd walked up a few stairs. "By what time are they going to be back, again?" She asked Harry, who had yet to sit back at his spot, to calm her nerves and get things back to normal again.
"Should be here in an hour or so," he mumbled, and Y/n could tell he was feeling just as conflicted as she was. "I'll be back in a minute," he told her before she heard him climb up the stairs to his room.
She dropped the scissors and slumped on the table, feeling too many things at once. She had no idea how much longer she could act like her heart didn't beat differently whenever he was around, like current didn't move through her body in waves whenever he so much so looked at her in a way, she'd seen him look at sunrises.
Breathing in and out a few times, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind before switching to play some cheery Christmas carols instead. Just in time, she heard Harry coming back down and went back to wrapping the present she had gotten for Anne.
"Here," Harry passed her a CD. "We'll watch this after dinner, on the sofa."
It was a CD of the musical, 'The Nightmare Before Christmas', and Y/n smiled looking down at it. It was a tradition they shared, to watch the movie every year during the Christmas break when they were back home. She looked up to nod at him, before grabbing a hold of her hot chocolate which had gone cold by now.
"Do I microwave it," Harry asked her when he saw her face retreat in distaste from the mug. Laughing, he picked both of the mugs and went to the kitchen. "Do you want a refill of marshmallows?" He shouted from there, already chucking some in his mug.
"Of course, yes I do, Harry!" She laughed, shaking her head. She started singing along to Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' and heard Harry soon catch up with her. He walked out of the kitchen with their mugs in his hands, singing with exaugurated expressions on his face.
She giggled in the midst of her singing but Harry never stopped.
"Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas,
I won't even wish for snow.
I'm just gonna keep on waiting,
Underneath the mistletoe."
Harry sang, and the both of them avoided the awkwardness to swim its way back between them as they sang at the top of their lungs, with their heads thrown back.
"All I want for Christmas is you, baby. All I want, all I really want is you!" The both of them shouted, singing the last line; their faces flushed and tears of utter joy moistening their eyes.
With their hot chocolates gone cold all over again, they knew that they'll be putting up mistletoes in their houses at whichever spot they found -- that they'll be waiting for any and every opportunity they'd get to make the other one their own to take care of, romantically.
Harry sat down to actually try and wrap some presents with his future-wifey (as he likes to think) because if Anne were to find out that Y/n wrapped them all on her own, he would probably not get his presents from her. Y/n, on the other hand, kept on humming the same tune over and over again, but the lyric that was playing inside her mind was the one saying that she would keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe.
#Harry styles#Harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles ff#harry styles blurb#harry styles blurbs#harry styles one shot#harry styles one shots#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles fic#harry styles concept#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles au#footballer!harry#best friend!harry#bestfriend!harry#harry styles masterlist#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fic recommendation#harry styles smut
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𝗜. 𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗗 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗦
(𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗨𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗗)
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next (WIP) | back to navigation
Parings: Sully family x reader, aonung x reader
Word count: 1,760
Notes: i finished this a while ago but i didnt have time to upload it so it took forever sddhshd also sorry for not updating or uploading anything im pretty busy, anyway hope yall like this!! (there will be part 2 if people like it)
Taglist: @avatarkv @stcrrgirllss @lorre-verie @eywas-heir
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[Name] thought that the chance that she and Aonung would make it back to Awa'atlu safe and unscathed was slim. The ocean was too placid for a normal night. There was a storm brewing.
"This isn't safe, Aonung, we should go stop at a small island and just...continue the journey home tomorrow." she suggested.
"Why? So I can suffer longer with you?" he scoffed, "no thank you." He rolled his eyes at her useless suggestion; going back to sailing to bring them home
"There is a storm brewing. For Eywa's sake Aonung! Will you just get rid of that 'mean boy' facade just this once so we could have a chance of surviving this!" she exclaimed, massaging her nose bridge.
"Calm down, freak. The water is so placid, there definitely won't be a storm anytime soon," he sighed, running his hands over his face.
"Yeah! That's why I know a storm is brewing—"
"Will you shut up? I'm trying to sail us back home and out of this mess!"
"Are you forgetting that you're the one that got us in this mess in the first place?"
He said nothing.
It was true though, he was the one that got them in that situation. It was his fault. He tried to trick [Name] to go out with him to hang out and start over, to put all the bullying and beating up in their past. He planned to leave her lost in the ocean. He knew that she was gonna die but he couldn't care less, though in the process of going to the place he was gonna leave her at, he realized that he didn't know his way back home. He had gotten lost as well.
Obviously, he never mentioned to [Name] that he original plan was to get her lost at sea. He was just too ashamed to say it.
"We are going to go home. Now. That is my final decision." he stated with a sharp tone as he stood close to her, facing her and pointing his finger to her chest.
"Fine, but don't blame me when we die." she replied, furious she pushed him away. "And get away from me, fish lips."
What [Name] thought, turned out to be true. A storm did form, and they were heading straight to it. The sky became darker, the waves got bigger and bigger. They would hear the sky rumbling. But still Aonung refused to turn back.
"We should turn back now Aonung, there is no chance we will make it through this unscathed." she suggested—again.
"No. We are going home."
"And how do you know this is the way home?"
"I just know it. Now quit being pessimistic, you're getting on my nerves."
"Fine, but if we get hurt or die, it is all your fault." with that, she went to the other side of the boat, away from him.
The sky roared loudly, letting out strong lightning and thunder. The clouds were just pure darkness. Rain poured furiously as the wind came charging at the water at high speed, creating gigantic waves. Their boat began to plunge from side to side, up and down.
The strong ocean produced huge waves in every direction, their boat was at the edge of breaking.
"I told you! We should've turned around, ugh how could you be so stupid!" [Name] exclaimed in annoyance. Angry at the Metkayina as it was his fault they were here.
"Shut up, freak!" he snapped, frantically running around their small boat, trying his very best to keep it afloat.
A huge wave formed right in front of them, devowering their boat whole. Raindrops felt like bullets to their skin.
There was a lighting, it had almost struck her, but it didn't; for before it could reach her, Aonung had pushed her out of the way. The lighting hit the boat instead, splitting it to pieces.
That was the last thing the both of them could remember before their vision went black.
She woke up first, finding herself laying on a wooden part of the boat—what was left of it at least—in the middle of the ocean, miles and miles away from home.
How long was she unconscious for?
She looked over to her side and saw the Metkayina boy laying beside her, unconscious. He had cuts and bruises all over his body, for a while she felt bad; she took pity on the boy. But then the thought of how much of an ass he is brought her back to her senses, he is a bad person, he deserved this.
"Aonung! Aonung!" she said, shaking him awake. He didn't respond for a while, tears were threatening to leave her eyes—until he finally opened his eyes.
His ocean blue eyes. She had always found his eyes mesmerizing, the first time she saw him she thought he was mesmerizing—though, she would never admit to this. It's a shame that he's such a horrible person, what a waste of such a beautiful face.
"Damn..." he uttered in a raspy voice, squinting and scratching his eyes as he was met with the bright light of the sun.
"Oh thank Eywa, you're alive." she sighed in relief. Aonung couldn't help but flutter at her concern.
Aonung sat up, looking around, trying his best to figure out where they were, but everything looked the same, blue ocean, blue skies, blue ocean, blue skies. "Where..." he spoke in confusion.
"...are we?" [Name] continued his sentence for him, "I don't know, stranded in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to go, I think?" she said sarcastically.
"Shut up," he groaned in annoyance, looking around more. He squinted his eyes, he noticed that there was a small island maybe three miles away. "there's an island there, don't know how you didn't notice that, I thought you were smart? Turns out I'm smarter" he teased, a light smirk formed on his lips, pointing towards the shape.
"Okay, if you're so smart, how do you suppose we get there?" she rolled her eyes, "we are literally sitting on a small piece of wood."
"Easy, we row ourselves there."
"We can't, this wood is too fragile, one wave will break it."
"So we swim."
"W-what? No. No, no, no absolutely not!" [Name] exclaimed, she wasn't dumb, stepping foot in those waters would be a death wish.
"Are you afraid?" he snickered, teasing her once more.
"Yes! We are far beyond the reef! You brought my brother beyond the reef and he almost died! Who knows what's in these waters? We could die, like actually die this time" she panicked.
"Calm down, you survived a storm." he rolled his eyes. "It's swimming there or nothing, don't tell me the ‘mighty freak’ is scared?"
"Fine let's do it." with that, they both jumped in. [Name] stayed near the boy. Holding onto his arm every time she hears a sound.
'You're gonna be fine, calm down.' he signed.
'Something is out there!'
'There isn't, now shut up and swim faster, you are so slow.'
'Sorry, I dont have such fat tails like you guys.' she rolled her eyes.
"See that wasn't so bad, it was so easy" Aonung bragged. They had finally, finally, got to the island.
"It took us three hours more or less!" she exclaimed out of breath.
She laid down at the sand, soaking up the comforting warm temperature of the sun. Aonung laid beside her, they both stayed there for a while, in silence; but this silence was different, it wasn't uncomfortable or weird, it was calm, the atmosphere was light, nothing can be heard besides the relaxing sound of the waves and the sound of the wind.
"So, what now?" Aonung asked, breaking the silence.
"What do you mean? I don't know, what's your plan?" she said, sitting up and looking at him blankly
"...I was expecting you to have a plan."
They look at each other with a blank expression in silence, "What." she said.
"Can't you call your Ikran or something and fly us outta here?"
"Okay, first of all, no I can't, we are too far away. Second, even if I manage to do that, how will we go home if we don't even know the way?"
"Well. Shit." he mumbled, running his hands through his face.
"Oh we are so fucked, I swear to Eywa, if you hadn't saved my life back in the boat I would kill you right now."
"Look, we'll find a way, okay?"
"I guess." she grumbled.
It was now eclipse, they surrounded a campfire, eating fruits they gathered earlier.
"Hey do you think they're looking for us?" [Name] asked with a mouthful of fruit in her mouth.
"Probably, I mean, your dad is Toruk Makto and he sure as hell won't let you die." he paused. "And as for me, I'm the son of the Olo'Eyktan. So yeah, the whole clan is probably looking for us."
She simply hummed in response.
"How long have we been gone for?" he asked
"I don't know, hard to say. Three days, more or less?"
"That long, huh."
A beat passed.
Another did. Silence surrounded them but it was not like the silence earlier, this one was heavy, like there were unsaid things that needed to come out of their mouths.
"So, Forest girl. I want to know more about you, I mean, we haven't been really the best of friends or friends at all, but seems like we'll be together for a while"
"Wow, did I just get promoted from 'freak' to 'forest girl'?" she said sarcastically, faking a shocked expression.
"I'm serious." he laughed.
"Okay, so what do you wanna know?" she asked, a slight smile on her face.
"How old are you?"
"14, you?"
"15."
"How do you like it here? I mean—back home I guess."
She paused for a while, "It's okay I guess, I don't know, it's a bit too calm for me." she mumbled.
"Too calm?"
"Yeah, I liked being in the war, I know that sounds horrible but it's all I've ever known." she said, voice barely above a whisper, looking down at the fruit in her hand.
He said nothing. Another silence surrounded the atmosphere around them.
"We should rest for the night, let's try to explore the island tomorrow, yeah?" he suggested.
"Yeah we should."
With that, they both layed down on the makeshift mat formed from leaves. None of them could sleep for that night, many things were left unsaid, and it bugged them.
#aonung x reader#ao’nung x reader#aonung x y/n#aonung imagine#ao’nung x y/n#ao’nung x you#aonung x sully!reader#sully family x reader#avatar x reader#avatar: the way of water#atwow#avatar the way of water#aonung fluff#avatar 2#dearstell
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Ok but brainrot time 🧍♀️@neverchecking @wayfayrr
So Sage will JOIN the cult eh?
Look the way he is atm there will be inevitable drama. So much that the guy in the beginning is disrupting the (secretly cult) group bcs of him smothering and hogging darling to himself— especially when you released that hcs of how manipulative and stuff he was? That was BEGGING for some inevitable drama down the line!
Picture this: Sage is always on the lookout for your attention to be solely placed on him and him only, and he'll use whatever grubby or dirty methods and CREATE MORE himself if he has to! Just look at him and give him affection pllllsssssss?? But in the bg he's like destroyed the chain's chances of having her and it's FRUSTRATING them to a point they'd naturally try and sabotage Sage's chances in return. Heck even as a whole group.
This just further keeps Sage excluded from the group, and it's even more felt when he makes Reader choose between him or the chain. It's always that.
And Reader? Idk abt u guys but my reader will cry out in frustration: she loves all of them! How can you make her choose? I'm rlly starting to think at some point with all this pressure Sage has been doing he's gonna make Reader cry at some point (mine at least, cuz in her eyes she felt she isn't doing enough to satisfy both parties. She gives and gives but for some reason it isn't enough and it's DRAINING and she wants to cry and now her worth is being questioned by herself and that's a DANGEROUS LINE OF THOUGHT cuz it could teether over to Darling leaving and tHAT CAN'T HAPPEN)
And NOT ONLY THAT. But if this continues on far enough, it could even lead to an accident too— a catastrophic one. Remember the times when the chain wasn't united into the cult that they were now? In Gliphy's writing of that campfire union smth before they agreed to worship their new Goddess, Legend specifically said Reader was HURT from their rivalries.
History will repeat itself, with Sage.
A brewing storm that Legend, —who has become the backbone, mediator AND BRIDGE of the chain— will undoubtedly notice at some point and try as he might he'll stubbornly try and knock some sense into Sage, probs knock him down a peg a bit, he should SHARE and not become overly SMOTHERING, he'll chase their darling away and that's the last thing they need!
But Sage, stubborn, hurt and battered heart Sage, doesn't listen and doesn't himself do the same problems the chain once did before they formed. In his eyes he's ABOVE them from doing the things they used to do, or maybe, he is NOT them and therefore won't be able to do those mistakes. BUT HE IS. HE INEVITABLY WILL. And if Sage goes on this way Reader not only just cry, she'll get HURT, AGAIN.
And when it happens that's practically the eye of the storm. And until she got stuck in bed recovering with no certain date? It's a whole train wreck of explosive emotions between him and the chain.
Sage is in DENIAL. NO. NO NO NO HE DID NOT HURT THEIR DARLING NO IT WAS THOSE LINKS FAULTS IF THEY WEREN'T IN THE PICTURE SHE WOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN HURT! To which the chain will flip over at him WT* NO IT WAS U THE WHOLE TIME U MANIPULATIVE ATTENTION HOG!! U MADE HER CRY ETC. ETC. It's a battle of words and there's a point they're all screaming at each other—
But naturally Legend halts everything and deals with Sage HIMSELF— Being the bridge that keeps the chain together this whole time, he'll do it again for the sake of keeping this family he actually cherished. And he'll do it by getting rid of the root of the problem.
This is an interesting clash in my opinion. Sage and Legend. Honestly they're so very similar in some ways.
Legend is a hoarder so there's like a hc of him taking everything he can to keep it to himself cuz he also loses stuff and he'll stop at NOTHING to gain his darling's affection and attention too (even when he's tsuntsun. There's no way he's letting all those walls he built be a reason he can't even have a moment w his darling). Mans lost so many loved ones and got betrayed and all that that he's become the way he is to keep himself safe, but his lil inner bunny still longs for that companion, for family, for love.
Sage lost EVERYTHING. absolutely EVERYTHING :')) He's on his THIRD adventure, the princess DITCHED him and he's like at the inch of his life facing Ganon. Man has also gotten all spiky and hard shelled bcs of it. He's tired of people and the princess (smth Legend can relate) he's tired and DESPISES Hylia (smth the chain ALL relates). He can't let anyone get close cuz he'll just get hurt again (Legend absolutely relates)
In a way, they're like, sides of the same coin? Reflected mirrors? Legend has went through so many adventures himself, and while it wasn't quite like Sage's it did leave him as hardshelled and everything as he is now. Personally I think Legend would understand him the most. So he tried, he rlly did, to tolerate Sage. Tried warning him not to do the same mistakes the chain and he HIMSELF once did, that he could push darling away. He knew how he felt the most after all. But he didn't LISTEN. And now they're darling is hurt, AGAIN. And now Legend's patience is on a thin THREAD.
Sage has ONE. LAST. CHANCE. to make things up. And this time Legend is WILLING to cut things off w him and the chain FR if he doesn't own up to his mistakes and the fix the mess he made. He's willing to keep darling AWAY from Sage, bcs the only thing Sage has been good for this whole time is making DARLING OF ALL PEOPLE question their worth, disrupting the chain and their bonds. He's not one of em? He's gonna keep being that way? Fine. They'll take darling WITH THEM and they'll leave him in his Hyrule. But not before Legend chews him out and makes him SEE his mistake. See the DAMAGE it caused not just the chain but to DARLING. that it was HIS FAULT. ALL OF IT. THAT EVERYTHING HAPPENED.
Trust me when I say Sage is one wrong move away from getting maimed by Legend. Man is so ready to kill and the others are too. Especially Cal and Wild. Legend will let Sage decide what he'll do next. And he better not be thinking of kidnapping their own darling cuz they're all gonna fight tooth and nail to keep him away from her and he'll be BANNED from seeing her even if he didn't do that. He needs to see his mistake, just like they all did. And once he ACTUALLY tries to somehow show his sorry and all that? While things are rusty and all, and forgiveness ain't easily given, they'd still accept some... Some..
He's a Link after all. No one here can blame him for anything (even if no matter what, the mistakes he did are inexcusable).
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Tagged by my friend @aphoticfairy for Wip Wednesday ( come . Play Pretend with me . It is still Wednesday . )
Since I am nervous to tag anyone for this, please feel free to take this post as your invitation to join in if you wish ! ( also tag me so I can see , pease … )
Fic wip for a fic I like to call “ Wyll and Giilvas are going to get married also Ulder is scheming and Giilvas and Ulder are going to enact psychic warfare on each other “ it’ s a great working title !
——
The Ravengard estate. A rather proud, pompous building. Overlooking the sprawling gardens and the intricate stone archways. The hedge maze was a wonderful touch, maybe, when Ulder was younger and he would race through the hedges. Now, it was an all-consuming nightmare to keep trimmed. And it proves his internal compass has… lost its skills, so to say, he’s gotten lost many more times than he will admit.
The halls come alive at known intervals, for political parties. Or political meetings. Or for political holidays. Ulder has to pause and think hard about the last time a celebration occurred in these wall and it didn’t have some form of political weight. The resounding answer being never.
But. Nevermind that. It was still a few months off before anything should be happening. The next larger, world devorning event was the Feast of the Moon, and the many little events that it managed to spawn that Ulder was left trying to herd like righteous tressyms. Which is to say, poorly, with many colourful words, and he ends up tripping over his own feet.
He had just managed to survive the screaming, meowing, forever pissed off hoard of metaphorical tressyms for Highharvestide, and was rather content to spend a few days in bed. Dead to the world. Or in his study. Dead to the world. Or in the gardens. Once again. Dead to the world.
So he was rather concerned when he awoke to a frantic set of knocks on his study door. Reading spectacles clattered on oak floor, book that was laid politely on his lap joining them, Ulder jolted to attention when one of the maids creaked the door ajar. Blue eyes peering inward like a child, checking to see if her parents are sleeping.
“Sire? We have word of visitors. I think they’ll wish to see you, when you’re available, of course.”
She doesn’t push the door open any further, but she does not close it either. Just offers a bow of the head, and her quick footsteps mark her rapid descent down the hall.
Ulder manages to blink a few times, vision taking pity and unblurring after the third try. If he can see, then he can hear. And if he can hear, he can retroactively acknowledge what the maid-girl just said. And if he can acknowledge what was just said…
By the Gods. Give him mercy.
Highharvestide had just concluded. No one was supposed to be coming around. Unless… no. No, the ball was perfect. There would be no way any self-respecting noble would send a pageboy to deliver a message of displeasure. Not so soon, anyhow.
But maids and watchguards do not go into a state of panic over a pageboy, so who could it…?
Putting the window to use, finally pushing the lovingly embroidered curtains to the side- ah, good afternoon to you as well, shower of dust- and he tries to focus his eyes to the horizon.
There is… something! There is something coming up the front path.
He needs his glasses. Damnable things.
By the time he manages to save them from their temporary spot on the cold floor, hips be damned he can manage that bend, the something is further up the path.
Ulder gives the lenses the old one-two swipe with the cloth of his shirt to get rid of anything unneeded smudges, and finally places them back on the bridge of his nose.
Oh. By the Gods.
It’s Wyll. His boy, Wyll Ravengard. Coming up the path with singed armour and a travel pack slinging over his shoulder. He’s grinning, the lingering autumn warmth slowing his pace as he approaches. He looks well. Very much so, since the last chance Ulder had to see him. Would have brought a tear to his eye. If there wasn’t a concern pushing at the base of his skull- joyous! A migraine is already coming on.
Wyll wasn’t the concern. Wyll wasn’t the reason Ulder was feeling the need to call upon the Triad.
The hulking other, a step behind his son? That was the reason.
The Golden Rose. Giilvas Quickfoot. His boy’s betrothed. Ulder’s nightmare.
Ulder wanted to scrunch his face. In fact, he does allow his nose to wrinkle and his lips to go tight. But if he can see them, they can see him. And, since the Fates have made the decision that Ulder is their current focus of tortures, Wyll’s betrothed is scarily perceptive.
So, if he was to snarl from his study, far above them, Giilvas would see it. And made sure Ulder knew.
Instead, with an air of calm and I don’t care that you’re coming up my walk and will be inside my estate, Ulder yanks the dusty old curtains back in place. Then, he allows himself to scowl at the old embroidery that dances across the fabric. He swears he can see those mismatched eyes of the Rose staring back at him in the tapestry. And he swears they’re laughing at him.
With a dizzying clarity that he, Duke Ulder Ravengard, is about to pick a fight with his curtains, he pulls away. There’s a warm rush of embarrassment across his neck. He’s acting like a child. Get it together, he scolds himself.
It is a blessing that his boy and his… boy-in-law? Were coming for a visit. They’ll probably spend the night out at the tavern, and they’ll spend only an hour or two here.
Ulder smooths out the wrinkles in his shirt, and affirms his thoughts. He would not demand Wyll stay the night here. And besides, this was just a visit. It wasn’t like the two of them were coming to the estate with world-changing news. The two of them were travellers- one of which had Ulder’s respect, but that was besides the point- they’d probably be seen leaving Baldur’s Gate by the dawn of the ‘morrow.
Now, time to take his place in the foyer, and wait for his welcomed guests to step inside.
——
“Father, we plan to be wedded!”
Ulder Ravengard was going to smash something. Over his head? Over the head of the smug man clinging to his son? Both of them?
Yes. Both of them, he decides. But, since the Fates chose that their newest decree would make it so no butler bearing two heavy bottles of wine came through the foyer at that instant, Ulder chose the high road.
He smiles, he knows it isn’t quite reaching his eyes but what can he do, and he nods like a village fool at the excitement in Wyll’s voice. There was something soft in his chest, seeing his son so… happy. He truly desires this, he wants the wedding. And he wants his father to know. It was sweet and Ulder wondered why he was so bitter a moment ago.
“Of course, this means I am here to ask for your permission, Mr. Ravengard.”
Suddenly, and without warning, Ulder Ravengard was bitter again. Wonder who caused that.
Giilvas kept a large hand almost permanently interlocked with Wyll’s, and Ulder has half a mind to tell him that Wyll isn’t going to run away on him. But the other half?
Oh.
Oh. It was planning. Spinning a web, even. Laying a dastardly trap. And the Rose would walk right into it.
“Of course. It would be wrong of me to deny you both from each other. But… May I make a request?” Ulder notes how Giilvas nods rather enthusiastically. And how Wyll nods, but slower. Brow furrowing just enough to faintly recrease his forehead. By the Helm, was he already onto him? Ulder didn’t think he was that predictable.
Well, he cannot back down now. He was the Duke, dammit. Dukes do not tuck tail and run.
“I would like to aid in the wedding. You’ll,” and Ulder locks his eyes with Wyll, making sure the fact that the you in this case is singular well known, “ have full access to our coffers for planning. We can even host the ceremony here. The garden can be kept alive by magic, you see-“
“You make it sound like we’ll be wed in the winter.” Giilvas cuts in, and Wyll eyes his father knowingly. Too knowingly. Ulder, suddenly, finds the wall behind Wyll far easier to lock eyes with.
“I was getting to that. You see, to make sure this wedding is perfect, you’ll both have to stay here. Allows us all to plan and have everything ready. It will be perfect, between Uktar thirtieth and Nightal first.”
Wyll sucks in a gasp.
“But that’s the Feast of the Moon-“
Giilvas’ eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, things slotting into place with Wyll’s words.
“You plan to wed us on the night for the Ball of the Moon.”
Clever boy.
“I think it would be grand. Wouldn’t it?” It also gives him the time to try and scare away the rapscallion that is trying to take his boy from him.
But, in a twist that Ulder feels more shock at the fact he did not see this coming, rather than the twist itself, Giilvas smiles at him. Not really a smile, top lip pulled too far back and it seems to refuse to reach his eyes, but he made the face all the same. It is the thought that counts.
“It’s a deal, gracious Duke Ravengard.”
Oh, the boy wishes to play the game with him? So be it.
Wyll eyes the both of them as they seal the deal with a shake. He is aware, the third party always is, but that only means Ulder will have to choose subtly. Espionage can win a war. It wasn’t like Giilvas knew how to navigate a noble home or the ecosystem of one. He has home advantage- literally.
He holds his potentially probably not son-in-law’s gaze for a few moments that last a century, seeing if he’ll shy away from the eye contact. When those mismatched eyes start to look like they’re laughing at him, Ulder releases the hand and turns to call for someone else.
“I’ll make sure a bed is prepared for you, my good man. And Wyll? Your room is the same as when you left. Make yourself comfortable once more, my son.”
He makes a mental note to tell the maid to make up Giilvas’ room on the opposite wing of the estate. Good luck avoiding squeaky floors in the night, foolboy.
For now, he guides the boys to deposit their belongings and encourages them to shed the heavier layers of armour. Might as well let them have as much comfort as they can now.
Hell stained metal and fabric collect alongside their travel bags, and Ulder holds his tongue. He will ask his son about it all later. The battles. The terrors. The cruelty. Now was not the time for any of it. Especially not when his son was still buzzing with the energy of announcing the plan for marriage.
“Father, are the gardens in good shape right now?”
Ulder knew was Wyll was asking for, and he reminded himself of the eye bags under Giilvas’ eyes. They both must be exhausted. And it would be cruel and unusual to try and being the warfare when one party was in poor condition. Ulder was nothing, if not a merciful man.
“Oh, go ahead Wyll. Everything will be taken care of in here.”
That damn warmth spread in his chest, seeing Wyll relock his hand with Giilvas’ own. He gives a tug, pulling the larger man along, and Ulder cannot help but sigh wistfully when Wyll mentions the maze to Giilvas. They’re going to get lost in there. Ulder knows it to be true.
But, with them both gone and busy, Ulder can plan with no risk of ever-watchful eyes catching him.
How does one drive away a man like Giilvas Quickfoot. It was time to delve into the worlds of speculation and trial and error.
He won’t be empty handed.
#bg3#bg3 tav#giilvas#wyll#wyll ravengard#ulder ravengard#willow trees#wyll/tav#wip wednesday#wip whenever#bg3 fic
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Hamliza Wedding Anniversary Quotes: Part 2 ✨✨
•--------------------------------------------------------•
Alexander: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing.
Eliza, looking up from the floor where she's playing dolls with baby Angie: Are you a software update? Because not right now.
(She's having play time with the kiddies)
Alexander: Surgery is basically just stabbing someone to life.
Eliza: Please never become a surgeon.
(He would say this. That is an irrefutable fact)
Eliza: Come on Alexander, do it for our marriage. You can't put a price on that.
Alexander: Yes I can, dear. Fifty dollars.
(He's joking, btw. He'd do anything for her. Except take care of himself and have a proper sleep schedule)
Eliza, near tears: Please, Alexander, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!
(This one is just poor sillies and I'm all here for it)
Eliza: You’re an idiot.
Alexander, looking smug and extremely proud of himself: That’s the charm.
Eliza: ...
Eliza: I can't say that that's untrue-
(And she fell for it. She fell for his idiotic charm)
Alexander: Eliza is playing hard to get.
Alexander: Little does she know, I'm a master at playing hard to get rid of.
(You silly little insomniac, you. Why would she ever even want to get rid of you? <3)
Alexander: *Walks to cabinet, removes oreo box, takes half a sleeve, throws empty box out.* Hi, Liza!
Eliza: Hey- what are you doing-?
Alexander, shoving an oreo into his mouth: I am saving space :D
(I love him so much)
Alexander: Did you know you remind me of all 26 letters of the alphabet?
Eliza: What? Like J F K W S Q X-
Alexander: No, like, U R A Q T.
Eliza: Awwww!
(He got that Alphabet Rizz 😏)
Alexander: Dude-
Eliza: No, no, hold up, rewind.
Eliza: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me dude??
(Eliza is genuinely baffled)
Alexander: Talk dirty to me, baby~
Eliza: The dishes.
Alexander: Wh-
Eliza: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.
(When your wife is tired of your bs and reminding you to do your chores)
Eliza: I have feelings for you.
Alexander: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?
Eliza: We should be partners.
Alexander: You mean like, partners in crime?
Eliza: Yeah... that’s precisely what I meant.
(Don't worry, guys. He's just a little clueless sometimes. He's just a silly little dense guy 😁)
Eliza: Alexander, how could you possibly have gotten into this much trouble in one day?
Alexander: It... It didn't take me the whole day...
(This is so him)
Eliza: Did it hurt when you fell-
Alexander: From heaven? Wow, I didn’t think you were such a flirt-
Eliza: No, I meant when you fell down the stairs.
Alexander: ...
Eliza: You just laid there for 15 minutes.
Alexander: Can you cut me some slack, Eliza? I’m sort of in love.
Eliza: I’m sorry, but that’s really not my problem.
Alexander: I’m in love with you.
Eliza: *Blushes.* Oh. That brings me in the loop a little.
*Alexander and Eliza are in Paris.*
Alexander: I'm...moved. I...I don't know what it is I'm feeling right now. I feel...destiny?
Eliza: But...
Alexander: I don't know what it is. I feel like... I just never thought I'd see it with my own two eyes. And here it is. It's just there. It's right in front of me, and...
Eliza: This is what you wanted to see? The bridge from Inception?
Alexander: Yeah.
Eliza: But the Eiffel Tower is behind us, babe.
Alexander: Yeah, but this is the bridge FROM INCEPTION.
Eliza: Okay, alright.
(She finds his dorkiness and excitement adorable 😁🥰✨)
Alexander: Relationships should be 50/50. Eliza cooks us dinner while I sit on the kitchen counter looking pretty.
Alexander, throwing his head into Eliza's lap: Tell me I'm pretty!
Eliza, lovingly stroking his hair: You're pretty annoying, that's what you are.
Eliza: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.
Alexander: Oh. We're going out?
Eliza: Wh...
(She sits him down and gives him a lecture on why he's wonderful and an amazing person the way he is)
Eliza: I owe you one.
Alexander: That’s ok. You can just date me and we’ll call it even.
#hamilton#hamiltrash#hamilton incorrect quotes#hamilton the musical#incorrect quotes#alexander hamilton#hamliza incorrect quotes#hamliza#hamilton x eliza
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Whumptober Day 31. The last one.
"I thought that I was getting better" / emptiness / setbacks / "Take it easy"
"Stop trying to get out of those shackles, you're going to hurt yourself", Villain slapped Whumpee's hands down.
"Then release me. You can't hold me here, I need to get back to Hero's team", Whumpee shook the shackles at Villain.
Villain frowned, "your 'team' doesn't want you, just trust me on that. It will all make sense soon... I hope."
Whumpee laughed, "trust you? How do I trust someone who has tried to kill me several times?"
"That was before I knew your team's secret regarding you", Villain paced, "I don't have everything straightened out yet, and your escape attempts are really starting to get on my nerves."
Whumpee frowned, "let me go."
"No, just sit still and behave", Villain sighed, "please."
Whumpee crossed their arms and pouted. They tugged on the shackles a bit more, but gave up.
"Um Villain?", Whumpee looked up a few minutes later.
"Ugh, what?", they groaned.
"Sorry", Whumpee looked down, "is there any rule against me sleeping, are you going to force me into sleep deprivation?"
"No, by all means, go to sleep. Maybe then I can have some silence to work", Villain threw a pillow at Whumpee.
"Ooph!"
"Sorry, I wasn't aiming for your face", Villain balled up a blanket and threw it.
The blanket opened up mid-air and fully covered Whumpee.
Later Whumpee woke up and realized Villain wasn't around. They had picked the locks to the shackles and had finally gotten them undone before falling asleep. They were happy Villain didn't check.
They snuck up the stairwell, careful to insure Villain wouldn't hear or see them. They finally were able to see the exit.
Whumpee ran for it, accidentally tripping an alarm.
Villain ran out of a room when the alarm sounded.
"Whumpee wait", they yelled as Whumpee escaped.
"Great", Villain squeezed the bridge of their nose, "they got out, I have to wait for fifteen minutes while lockdown clears up, all the while they are getting away. Villain ran to their computer and logged in.
"Glad they didn't feel me put the tracking device on them while they slept", Villain watched the computer set up the tracking. They looked back at where Whumpee was sleeping, "of course you can pick locks", they sighed.
Whumpee had already gotten pretty far, they darted around a corner and leaned against a building to catch their breath.
Whumpee looked around, getting their barring.
"Hero should be off today. They will probably be at Headquarters", Whumpee started to walk, "wait until I tell them what happened. They will feel bad, not realizing I was kidnapped", Whumpee told themself.
Finally at Headquarters, Whumpee pressed the code to get in.
"Huh, maybe they did know I was kidnapped and had to change the code. Smart just in case I did give that information. I wouldn't have though, no matter the what."
"Whumpee is that you?", the speaker box on the side started.
"Oh hey Hero, yeah, I was captured by villain, but escaped", Whumpee grinned, "can I come in."
The door opened, and Whumpee entered.
Hero waited for them near the entrance, Whumpee could see a fake smile plastered on their face.
"Is everything okay?", Whumpee stopped.
"No, not really, I thought I got rid of you. You've caused me so many problems", Hero frowned.
"But I", Whumpee took a step back in shock, "what do you mean?"
"Heck Whumpee, you have no idea still? You are a bargaining chip in this city. You remember supervillain, they died two years ago? You are their child. The city forced you to forget through memory deletion and made me and the team keep you so the villains wouldn't turn you to their side. They would have an advantage if that happened", Hero started to walk to Whumpee.
Whumpee stepped back, "they were right."
Hero smiled, "I'm glad you know, now we can just put you in protective custody."
"No", Whumpee started to run.
Hero jumped forward and caught them, "I don't think so."
Whumpee turned and bit Hero, then ran when Hero pulled back.
"You little....", Hero yelled, "I'll get you, and when I do, you'll rot in jail in your parents' place.
Whumpee escaped and ran down the street. They found a hiding place behind a dumpster in an alley.
Whumpee pulled their knees to their chest, buried their face in their arms, and started to cry.
They sighed when the sky opened up, and it started to rain.
"How could I have been so stupid, I'm a pathetic pawn for this city. Just a throw away", Whumpee spoke out loud.
A sudden stop of rain made them look up, an umbrella was being hovered over them.
"Villain?", Whumpee sobbed, "how did you find me?"
"Tracking device", they smiled and knelt down, "I take it you found out the hard way."
Whumpee sighed and sadly nodded.
"I will say this once, and only once, but I told you so. I told you to wait and be patient, but no", Villain frowned, "Supervillain was my closet friend. You've unfortunately changed quite a bit to where I didn't recognize you at first, and I was doing a DNA test."
Whumpee looked down, "what now?"
"I would dishonor Supervillain if I didn't take care of their child. So if you'd like to come back with me to my base, and take an easy, you are welcome to do so", Villain smiled, "you can stay there as long as you need."
"Are you going to shackle me again", Whumpee grinned.
"Not unless you want me to, I'm still curious how you picked the lock", Villain stood and reached a hand down to help Whumpee up, "if you run away again that's on you, my base is your home so you can always come and go, but I'm not chasing you down again like this."
Whumpee took the hand and stood, "are you sure, Hero may target me now", Whumpee frowned.
"I count on it", Villain smiled as they started to go back to their base together, "Hero has a lot of things they've been hiding from the public, I can't wait to tear down those walls they've built. Once the public sees their precious Hero for who they really are, chaos will break free. The age of the villains will begin."
Whumpee stopped walking.
Villain turned and looked at them, "don't worry, you don't have to be involved if you don't want to be, you will have my protection to keep you safe."
"No, it's not that, this sounds so familiar. Like a dream", Whumpee frowned.
"It was Supervillain's plan, I'm only completing it for them. There is no way I would have come up with this on my own", Villain smiled, "your parent loved you by the way, that was the last thing they said when they died in my arms."
"How did they die? Hero says the government whiped my memory", Whumpee walked under the umbrella again.
"Hero and Superhero worked together to defeat them, it was an unfair fight", Villain started to lead them again, "your parent fought hard knowing you would be targeted. Superhero grabbed you before I could get to you. They definitely changed your appearance, I don't even want to know everything they did to you."
Villain looked around, "we should get back to base, we'll be safe there, let's hurry."
As Villain ushered Whumpee inside of the base, they looked back towards the street. They knew Hero was watching.
"What's wrong Villain?", Whumpee watched.
"Nothing, I thought I saw something", Villain took another look and saw Hero standing on the street, "just an imposter hiding under a cape", they grinned as they closed the door, and set the alarms.
"Hero is out there?", Whumpee took a few steps back.
"Yep", Villain turned to them, "no worries", some banging happened at the door, Villain pressed a button, "they aren't getting in. This base is indestructible."
"Whumpee come on, I'm sorry. Come back with me. I was having a hard day, and you caught me at a bad moment, I'm sorry. I should have never said that to you", Hero yelled, "I'll keep you safe, you don't know what you are doing."
Villain smiled, "they are realizing they made a mistake and told you too much, they want you back so they can erase your memory again."
The banging kept up.
"Well that's annoying", Villain pressed another button, "come here."
They watched a video feed of hero banging on the door, then a gun pointed at Hero. Hero jumped back and realized the gun was following them. They ran off after a few minutes of dodging bullets.
"Unfortunately I don't think you're leaving the base any time soon, they may wait for you to come out. We have to be smart about this", Villain watched Whumpee sit down, "you should lay low, and take it easy for a while."
Whumpee nodded.
Whumpee found Villain a bit later. They quietly walked closer.
"They're relentless", Whumpee heard a guard whisper to a different guard, while Villain worked nearby.
Whumpee caught Villain's eye.
"Hey, is everything alright?", Villain gave them their full attention.
"Yes thankyou, and thankyou for dinner", Whumpee looked at the monitors the guards were watching.
"Is-is that Superhero?", Whumpee watched as they attacked the base.
"Yep", Villain sighed less than amused, "they've been punching that spot for an hour now."
"They scare me, thay always have", Whumpee looked down, "whenever they came over to Headquarters I would hide in my room until they left."
Villain went over to the monitor and grabbed a mic.
"You're not getting in here. You can keep banging all you want, but your just wasting time. You know Supervillain built this base to protect their family and friends", Villain yelled.
"Give me back Whumpee or else", Superhero punched again.
Villain could see the blood oozing from Superhero's hand.
"Whumpee is back where they belong, safe from those who used them", Villain reached for a button, "if you don't stop punching that wall with your bloody fist, I'll paint the rest of that side with my guns."
Superhero looked down at their hand, "I will get them back, watch me."
Whumpee and Villain watched Superhero fly off.
Villain turned towards Whumpee, "are you okay?"
Whumpee nodded, shaken up at the thought of Superhero getting them.
"I won't let them", Villain seemed to read Whumpee's mind, "I lost my friend, I'm no going to fail them by losing their child. You trust me, right?"
"Yes", Whumpee turned to Villain, "I have some information I think might help."
"Great", Villain smiled, "let's get dessert and we can talk about it."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened
#whumptober 2023#no.1#no.2#no.3#secrets#hero and villain#oc#writting#deception#whump community#whump stuff#whump writing#whump ideas#whumpee#whump#whump scenario#whumper#caretaking
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four
ಌ four: tartaglia (x4) x masc!reader
ಌ theme: tartaglia wanting clones to spar with, but now he's having to fight them for his share of you
ಌ cw: implied masc reader (if pt. 2 then yes very much masc!reader), suggestive but nothing too out there idk, no pronouns used for reader<3, this started off as a funny haha idea but now my brain has gone into the gutter, pt. 2? hehe?, cross-posted on ao3
ಌ wc: 1k
ಌ notes: hi hi hello !! please take this drabble i've had in my notes for a while as i am far too busy atm to find the time to finish off bigger projects :(( this was originally a crack fic type thing but... yeah haha... have a good day<3
How you got to this point was absolutely beyond you. Before you stood four different Tartaglia’s, not really understanding why there was suddenly four of him but knowing that there was only one person that could have made this possible. They had a slight leaning in different personalities, but you could tell right off the bat who the original was, and he was trying to shut the others up at one point. Sighs would come like shockwaves to you, never really seeing the man frustrated over his own selves like this. Pinching his nose bridge, eyebrows knitted so closely together, and shaking his head at his failed attempts of controlling the situation.
One confessed his ‘undying love’ for you, how he’s loved you from afar until now, that this feeling sprouted from the moment he’d seen you and how his eyes would only ever follow after you. How he’d die for you, protect you, do anything for your approval, etcetera. The second had some crude words to say to you, telling you what he’d do to you and what type of situation he’d love to see you in, one of them specifically being with all of the clones. Third was shy; bashful. Whenever you looked at him, his ears would go red and he’d turn away from you, and if anything, it made you want to tease that one in particular. These were all a part of Childe’s feelings, something you’re very lucky to witness, and so you numbered them mentally to keep in check of things.
The original one looked pissed, everything about him had just been exposed and the clones weren’t listening to him for one minute. So, he stood in the middle of it all, blocking the clones from you in defiance to the two confessions, not really worried about the one taking sneaky looks only to look away once he had gotten caught staring by you both.
“Would you stop this? I got Dottore to clone me so that I could fight myself, find my own weaknesses by watching for my own moves… Not so you can go talking about things that I’ve been keeping to myself! My comrade shouldn’t have to hear this−”
“Okay, and? It’s your fault, and the fact you were warned about us not being an exact replica of yourself and there was a good 65% chance of us splitting into certain personalities of yours… You still took that risk. Anyway, Y/N, let’s leave! We should run away together, I’m the better clone out of us AND the one that isn’t chicken to admit his feelings for you!” One had proclaimed, extending a hand to you almost dauntingly.
“Can you shut the fuck up? Christ, Y/N isn’t interested in that. We should go ourselves, comrade, there’s much to do and there’s so much I’ve yet to do to you. He wants to spar so bad, but I’m not interested in seeing blood, I’m interested in seeing you in my be−”
“You… You guys are pushing too hard!” Three was quick to speak up to interrupt the remainder of Two’s sentence, and in a way you were glad he had, any slight movement or reaction could have gotten you whisked away by a very strange version of Tartaglia.
Childe was getting irritated with thing 1, 2, and 3, and you could see it in his face clear as day. It was as if a cloud enshrouded you all, with him being so close to snapping, to getting rid of them in a way he probably knows won’t work but would probably satiate the bubbling anger. You weren’t sure how to diffuse the heat of the bickering between them, so you took his hand into yours. He didn’t even turn around at this, only squeezing your hand that he’s thinking of something, he’ll fix this mess somehow.
“Hey! Who said you could hold hands?!” It felt like your eardrums could pop if One had said this any louder, not really realising that the original could probably raise his voice just as loud. Two looked at him in disbelief.
“What are you, a child?”
“That’s our codename dingbat, we should at least live up to it, no?” One wasn’t taking the sarcasm from Two,
“This is so much worse than I thought this would be. I wish Dottore gave more warning in how annoying it is to meet certain parts of yourself from this type of perspective.” He squeezed your hand, moving backwards so that you could slowly put distance between yourselves and the clones, hoping you could run at some point.
“Shall we just share? I think it would be interesting…” Three had suggested, voice growing quieter when the others stopped to listen to him.
“What the fuck are you insinuating?” Folding his arms, Two was willing to listen but thought it was weird Three would bring up such a thing. All eyes were now on Three, but his eyes were darting everywhere but your face, his cheeks still burning up and around his face.
“Hmmm… He has a point.”
“The only point I’m seeing right now is that you guys want us all to jump our comrade here.”
You felt like a lamb. Trapped and surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves that are ready to just gobble you right up, Childe had a strange glint in his eye after thinking about what the third clone was suggesting to them all… That simply ‘sharing’ you would be much easier, as if you were some toy. Did it excite you? Maybe. But how would it work with 5 people? You knew what position you were being egged into, but how could 4 people ‘share’ you? They circled you, trapping you in the middle and Childe was in front of you, hands wandering around your waist. One was quick to pull your face towards him to the right, Two following closely behind by getting behind you, his arms ducking under armpits and his hands spreading as he felt up your chest. Three had finally mustered up some courage, holding your hand whilst his other danced up your left arm. All of them made you feel overwhelmingly hot, it felt like you were burning wherever they touched.
“Don’t worry, comrade, we’ll take such good care of you.”
#tartaglia x reader#genshin impact#genshin tartaglia#childe x reader#x masc reader#masc reader implied#tartaglia#childe#genshin ajax#genshin fic#crack fic#drabble#anime#fanfic#masc reader#x reader#genshin childe
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Obey me lucifer x gender neutral reader
Lucifer sighed, walking over and tapping your shoulder. You groaned as you pushed yourself up off the couch. Sitting properly as to make begrudging eye contact.
"mc. May I ask why you are sat around doing nothing? You have yet to complete your portion of the chores, beelzebub has eaten almost all of the food in the fridge and have you even started your assignment yet? I do not want to hear from the faculty at RAD again. It is frankly embarrassing. You have a reputation to uphold."
You took a deep sigh, standing quickly and glaring ferociously at him.
"Do this mc, do that mc.
When I'm not stopping beelzebub I'm attending meetings, and if I'm doing chores for you. When I'm not doing that I'm running around after your brothers all day, Do you know how many times I've repaired issues in YOUR family? I've lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I've gotten, threatened, attacked, screamed at, insulted and KILLED! And all the while I'm having to complete schoolwork that covers topics and subjects I didn't even know excited all because I was dragged from my life into literal hell without my consent or knowledge just to fulfil some role in reuniting three realms. Sometimes I feel like I'm being pulled in so many directions I don't know which way to turn."
Lucifer was stunned into silence, standing slack jawed at your unusual outbreak as he watched you breathe heavily. You pushed past him, bumping his shoulder harshly as you stormed into your room, ignoring the greeting asmodeus and beelzebub gave you on your way past.
The door slammed, break creaking as you threw yourself onto it.
————
Tapping your fingers on the back of your DDD in irritation you scrolled through DevilTok. You grumbled, you knew you had ever right to be mad, you had every right to be absolutely infuriated st this entire situation. But still, thinking back on how lucifer looked in that moment... Something felt.. Wrong. You felt almost guilty for shouting like that.
You shook your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts. You shouldn't feel guilty, he needed to know how you felt and in that moment all the anger had built to a boiling point. There was no avoiding it.
*knock... Knock knock*
Lucifer. You knew it was him, he always knocked in that manor. One knock - a pause - two heavy knocks. Followed by-
"may I come in?"
You stayed silent, pondering what you should say. You where still angry, less so now but you didn't know if seeing him would be the best right now.
"why would you want to?"
A brief moment of quiet passed before a soft muffled sigh.
"I would prefer to explain face to face and not through a door."
Rubbing the bridge of your nose you inhaled sharply.
"Fine."
With that the door clicked, opening enough for a familiar stoney faced lucifer to walk through.
"I would like to talk about earlier."
A soft click, the door closed.
"what about it?"
Your bed creaked as he perched on the edge, looking at the floor instead of at you.
Strange.
He said it was improper and rude to not look at someone whilst conversing.
This wasn't his usual self. In fact he looked... Dishevelled. His hair hung loose, free from product and it's normal business man style. He had no gloves, missing both them and his coat and blazer.
"I have... Considered what you said, ran it through my head countless times."
You rolled your eyes.
"and?"
"I had never quite realised the position you have been put in. I now know this may be alot of stress-"
"may be? Are you fucking kidding me?"
Gripping your phone tightly you watched as he swolled, stammering for a moment before speaking again.
"it IS alot of stress. More than any normal human could possibly handle. I am proud of how remarkably well you have done so far. Yet as I now realise, you have not been handling it as well as you portray. You've been angry, upset...."
He paused for a moment.
" I sent a letter to lord diavolo explaining the situation and... "
He swolled again taking a shaky breath.
"demanded.. A new schedule for you."
He let those words linger in the air. It clearly hurt him in some way to damand diavolo. He was more than likely even scared by the prospect of it. Yet he did it anyway... For you.
"you will now be allowed up to three days a week off from school. Your chores and homework have been lessened to a more manageable amount and I have spellbound a spare room so that now only you can enter, that way you can have a private space away from my brothers."
You sat in the quiet for a moment, letting all of what he had done hit you before you sighed softly.
"thank you, luci."
His posture hunched, face turning away so you could no longer see any of it.
"I am just... Sorry, that you can not enjoy your time here.
His voice crackled sadness and self hatred dripping from his words. You frowned.
" no.. No luci look. I have and do enjoy being here. I was stressed, yes, but I love it here, I love your brothers, the angels, diavolo and most of all I love you."
He turned back, glancing at you with teary eyes. A glittering track of tears ran down his cheeks.
neither of you spoke, not knowing what more you could say.
"come."
He spoke simply, his voice soft and insecure. A stark contrast to his usual husky self assured tone.
Opening his arms he allowed you to crawl into his embrace, pulling you against his chest.
"if there is ever anything, anything at all that I can do to help. You need only say, I want you to be happy."
Smiling softly you pressed a gentle kiss the the side of his jaw.
"I am happy."
#Ifyouknowthereferenceyougetacookie#obey me#obey me x reader#x reader#fanfiction#Obey me lucifer#Obey me lucifer x reader
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hi! maybe u could write something where reader and Tim are close friends at first and then one night she sees her ex at a party with another girl and she’s so upset. Timothée comforts her and then says they should make her ex jealous by dancing, flirting, cuddling. Y/n keeps looking to see if her ex is watching at first but then she really starts to fall for timothee and realizes he’s the one she wants so she kisses him and he takes her to the nearest room and they’re confessing feelings for each other and it’s beautiful 🤩
Omg my first anon request, this is so rad I'm literally a nobody!!! Ahhhhhh thank you for requesting me, I hope I got this right ♥.
Disclaimer: kind of obsessive Timmy, around 2k words of not proofread.
I looked up to see my very beautiful best friend straddling my waist, but it wasn't going like how I fantasized almost every night and day. She was wearing my Bauhaus shirt that's been missing, her luscious thighs exposed to my pleasure, and it took everything I had to not slide my hands up the expanse of them, we're touchy but not THAT touchy.
She was holding a plastic, bloody, Halloween knife in my face and an attempt at a merciless expression on her doll-like face.
"Uh…is this how you ask how you like my eggs?" I joked.
"You jerk!" She hit my bare chest with the party city weapon which hurt more than you'd think.
"Ow!"
"You hid my doll!" She whined, she didn't know but her whining always got me hard and that wasn't great especially since I had morning wood.
"Your Dalton doll?"
Dalton was her dipshit ex boyfriend. They met at a club, she said they had an instant connection and was hopeful since they were the same sign. I want to gage his eyes out and pour acid on his dick.
I've wanted her for only since we've met, she thought I was asking her friend out, when I was trying to ask her out and I ended up going out with her friend instead, and well she figured out after a month that it was Y/N that I wanted and promised not to tell.
But Dalton.
The douche who dumped her because she quote wasn't driven enough. Who the fuck says that to someone? Especially someone you were in a relationship with. I wanted to push him off the Brooklyn Bridge and see if he could fly.
She came to my place in tears, crying that she wasn't enough, calling herself stupid and useless and going nowhere. A stark difference for when she first met the wannabe rock star.
He had a band and she was at a show seeing her friend's band play. I wasn't there that night, if I was I wouldn't have let that happen. He was lead singer of some band, doing well enough that they ended up getting signed, and with that he dumped her. Said she spent too much time supporting him, promoting his band, and making t-shirts. He asked her if she wanted to do anything else with her life, she's a dog sitter and he made her feel like a piece of crap under his shoe for it.
She cried in my arms all night when he dumped her. It took her three hours to convince me not to kill him by choking him with chicken wire.
We were at a party last night, and we saw his band there, the classic rock wannabes that performed at the Grammys. He acted like he never knew her, he looked right through her like she never existed, like they didn't spend a year together, like it wasn't the worst year of my life.
We left the party early and Y/N got so drunk, and had gotten her own Dalton voodoo doll, planning to lay many curses on him. I had to calm her down. I thought she forgot that I got rid of that thing.
My silly, whimsical girl. I wish she wouldn't waste her tears on him.
"Let's go out tonight, Pete wants me to try this new club downtown. It's very exclusive, probably won't see he who shall not be named." I attempted soothing my little tempest, rubbing her back.
She narrowed her eyes in thought and suspicion, slowly lowering the knife. "We'll get so dressed up, you love dressing up."
She looked around. "Will you let me dress you up?" She asked almost childlike. I laughed and sat up, causing her to shift in my lap. "Anything you want."
Her eyes lit up a little and she dropped the knife before climbing off of me, and I missed the weight of her.
''You're forgiven, I'll make some breakfast!" Just like that she was fine.
Tonight arrived faster than I was prepared for, and we did go all out. She gave me a little facial, her stroking fingers felt wonderful on my face and I loved having my head in her lap. The lavender mask was nice too. Apparently I have combination skin.
She did my makeup, it took her mind off of the D word. She enhanced my lips with lip liner and gloss, my eyes with eyeliner and highlighter touched my cheekbones, nose, chin, lips, and head. Y/N painted my nails black and dressed me in leather pants, combat boots, and a black sheer shirt. My favorite part about being her Ken doll was all the touching. I know that's creepy but I don't care.
I wasn't prepared for her to come out like that.
I was waiting in my living room and she came out in a tight, black, sweetheart dress with razor thin straps. The dress was practically strapless, enhancing her cleavage and only ended right below her thigh. She grabbed her red heart shaped purse and my eyes went down to her thigh highs black, leather boots.
My heart was beating so fast and I felt like my lungs were going to collapse. "Fuck, y/n–"
She did a seductive little pose. "Is it okay?"
I nodded. "Good, I'm so ready to get fucked up tonight!"
The club was cool, there were 4 levels and the fourth floor was VIP to an already exclusive club.
I ordered myself an espresso martini and got y/n her favorite, a French martini. A club mix of Lana del Rey's blue jeans was playing, men and women's eyes were on my girl and I put my arm around her waist to end their starving stares.
She swiveled her hips provocatively and bounced up and down to the beat, I downed my drink and began to dance with her when she stopped. "Mouse, what is it?" I asked her using the special nickname I had just for her.
I looked her in direction, what rotten luck, it was Dalton, and he was grinding against one of the new Victoria's Secret models. "You know what he used to tell me all the time?" She asked in a monotone voice.
I grasped her hip, knowing I won't like the answer.
"I'm too big, my thighs are too jiggly, I have too many dimples, my arms aren't toned." She sounded casual when she said this but when I turned her around to face me the tears were pouring. I want to put his face in a fucking blender I swear. How the fuck could he say that shit to her? I clenched my jaw so tight I swear I was gonna break my teeth.
"He's worthless y/n, no I'm serious!" I snapped, causing her eyes to widen. "You look like a girl out of a 1960s playboy issue, the kind you'd find stashed away in your grandpa's bathroom. You're not only adorable and smart and funny, I mean you say shit like 'panic at the costco'!" She laughed through her tears. "You're also so supportive, and imaginative, you aren't afraid to show exactly how you feel, you breathe life into everyone you meet, you know more about dogs than anyone I know and you're hot as hell. He's not good enough for you and we're gonna show him that."
Her eyes widened. "Wait-you think I'm hot- what do you mean-"
I interrupted her stuttering and dragged her in the middle of the dance floor. A sexy song came on and I slid my hand up her soft thigh, her eyes widened but she let it happen pressing into me, as I gripped her thigh lifting it so she wrapped her leg half around me. I rolled my hips forward as if we were fuckin, her dress rose and her red painted lips fell open as her hand moved up my chest.
I bucked my hips and moved my body against her. She wiggled her hips nice and slow as she draped her arms over my shoulders, fingers sliding into my hair , our faces so close we were just a kiss away. It was hard. I was hard. And I knew she felt it. Because she grinded down on it and my nostrils flared. I looked over her shoulder and smirked at a glaring Dalton who pissed off his lingerie date. I mouthed 'fuck you' , and to my joy he looked livid.
I went back to enjoying y/n, she smells so good like sex and vanilla. I rubbed my nose lewdly on her neck. She turns her head to see her ex, remembering the purpose of this sex on the dance floor. "Timmy, he looks so mad do you see him?"
She looked back at me for a response and gasped at the intense look on my face instead. She stares at me with something akin to desire and realization, before leaning in closer.
I moved my mouth closer but remained far enough to let her decide her fate. And fuck she chose well. She pressed her mouth against mine and I could breathe again.
I lifted her a little and dragged her off the floor as I sucked her mouth and kissed it open. I slammed her against the wall between heated bodies and licked her mouth, she parted her lips and sucked on her tongue as grabbed her waist and her ass, pinning her with my body. We only stopped kissing so we could breathe.
Her pupils were dilated and my ringed thumb rubbed her lip. "Timmy, don't kiss me like that if you don't mean it. Don't ever do that again!"
Tears filled her eyes and she attempted to rub from me but I grabbed her hips. "Mouse, you better correct me if I'm wrong, are you saying–"
"I've always…it's always been you, but I thought…"
I laughed with relief. To risk sounding like a loser, this was like a dream. My best friend is like my ideal girl, we never argue, we like the same things, we complain about the same things, I hate and love everything with her. She wasted her time with polluting toxic wastes of human beings just to tell me now it's always been me.
"Fuck me slowly with a Chainsaw, was I really thay blind? I blame my obsession over you and not believing anything this great could happen. You're better than any dream which makes it scarier than any nightmare….when did you know?" I rambled, my hands couldn't stop roaming her body.
She sniffled with a smile. "It was that Gregg Araki film, Doom generation, and I didn't have my favorite candy, you ran out to get it for me. I had a crush on you but I fell in love with you at that moment, like I'm talking hoarding your socks and watching your saliva in your mouth as you drink Starbucks, kind of obsessive love."
I pulled her hand with me, I pushed people out of the way and into the bathroom and locked the door. I lifted her onto the sink and claimed her mouth with mine. "I'm so disgustingly in love with you, it's gross and filthy. I love you so much I fantasized about killing Dalton for hurting you and not appreciating you. I want to be your person, mouse." I was almost in tears and she cupped my face so gently. She kissed my eyes and nose. I kissed her mouth and tasted her tears. "I want to be gross with you." She whispered into the kiss.
"Let's go home." I sighed, kissing down her neck.
"Yours or mine?" She raked her nails through my curls, I could drool from how good it felt.
"Ours. Move in with me."
"Tim–"
"I told you I'm gross."
She tilted my head up and licked up my chin to my lips. "It's okay, I love gross. Disgust me please." She said softly before looking into my eyes.
I didn't hesitate, I'll never hesitate again.
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Hi!! I hope this ask would find you well <33 May I request jaehyun in an academic rivals to lovers trope, angst to fluff ^^ you can play along with this, anything you envision for it 😼 happy 2k btw! Deserve that and more 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
Pairing: Jaehyun x You
Genre: academic rivals, university!au, angst, drama, fluff in the end
Word Count: 1.3k
Under normal circumstances, it was impossible to hear a slip of paper drop onto the floor. But in a lecture hall with more than 100 people writing an exam in absolute silence, every breather, motion and slightest gust of wind drew attention to where the sound radiated from.
This time, all eyes were on you and the slip that had gotten loose from your staple of papers. A tiny, but very informative slip on which all relevant formulas for today’s exam were written down so that there was barely no white space left. A piece of paper that you usually wouldn’t need as you were on top of your class, but your life circumstances had forced you to scribble in the smallest handwriting.
The echoing footsteps of your professor walking up the aisle to your desk made your heart race, and you broke out in cold sweat. You had your look fixated on the exam sheet in front of you, feigning ignorance. But it was hard to pretend not to be involved when you were at the scene of crime as the only one not paying attention to it.
“Miss, did this just fall from your desk?” The professor had the slip in his hand, glaring at you through his glasses that sat halfway on the bridge of his nose, his white hair and droopy eyes giving Einstein vibes.
How were you supposed to explain to him that only a few days ago, you had found out that you weren’t your parents’ biological child, and thus weren’t even capable of eating let alone studying anymore? That, all throughout your childhood and adulthood, even when they had deemed you mature and logical enough to study something as complex as mathematics, your parents had never considered breaking down the truth to you? And then, when you had found out yourself, your entire world just crashed.
“N… no.”
When you looked up to him, you tried to sound strong and confident, but it was hard to do all that when you were actually guilty and fragile of even understanding your own feelings.
“Miss, this was lying close to your desk. I saw it fall on the floor.”
“I- it…” You gulped, your fingers enclosing so hard around your pen that your knuckles turned white and your forehead sweaty. “N-... no…” But you weren’t even sure whether you brought these words out.
“Please pick up your exam papers, Miss, and follow me.”
That was it. Your life ended here and now again. With this important exam getting flunked and you getting caught cheating, you probably would get suspended from the institution, temporarily or permanently. In the span of a few days only, your entire world ended here and now.
“It’s not hers.” The sound of a chair getting pushed back suddenly broke through the silence as you were about to make a move to stand up. “It’s mine.”
When you shifted your head aside, you saw that Jeong Jaehyun had stood up, his exam papers already collected in his palms, his gaze that he directed at the professor determined and confident - all that you couldn’t feign. You just didn’t understand what he was doing.
Jeong Jaehyun usually didn’t save your ass. Jeong Jaehyun was the type of guy who stole the last free seat in the library right from under your eyes so that you had to sit on another floor that didn’t have the right books. Jeong Jaehyun was the type of guy who didn’t want to partner up with you in a group project, because he thought he was so much more successful without you. Jeong Jaehyun was the type of guy to screw you over, to butt heads with you and to trick you whenever possible just because he thought you weren’t worthy of being so smart and capable in this major as him.
If anything, this was a moment which he should celebrate, the moment he would finally get rid of you, possibly forever. But he was saving you as he silently followed the professor and got sent out of the lecture hall.
Long after the exam was over, you waited in front of the headmaster’s office, nervously biting your nails. You had tried to finish the exam as best as you could, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Jeong Jaehyun and what awaited him behind this door.
As it slowly opened, after what felt like an eternity, and Jaehyun stepped out, you rose from your seat and stood in front of him. His expression gave away that he hadn’t expected you here, and it was probably the first time that you saw his usual cocky self being so irritated.
“Jeong.” You swallowed, hard. “What did you do?” you wanted to know, upset. “You knew I was guilty.”
He buried his hands in the pockets of his pants, letting out a long sigh. Breaking your eye contact, he looked aside and pressed through gritted teeth, “If you get kicked out of the institution, it won’t be as fun anymore.”
Now, you were the one being irritated. “Jeong, you just got suspended and that’s all you can think about? Mocking me? Making fun of me again? Is this the thing your entire life revolves around?”
“Can’t you see?!” he suddenly blurted, spinning around simultaneously so that you stumbled backwards and hit the wall with your back, Jaehyun blocking your way with his arms propped to your right and left. “Yes, my entire life revolves around you, but you never seem to be able to look past our rivalry.”
He had taken you totally by surprise, why else would your heart beat so fast right now? For sure, it was not because he stood so close to you. And because, after all, he was exceptionally handsome. “I don’t understand.”
“I can’t get your attention, because you don’t pay attention to anything else except studying. Always, I have to work my ass off so that you notice my existence. Always, you only want to fight me, beat me. But that’s the only rare moments in which you will look at me, speak to me. So tell me, how are we supposed to keep this up when you’re gone?”
You sucked in a rush of air, your gaze wandering from his eyes to his lips that were threateningly close, then back to his eyes, and they mirrored such a loft look at that moment, you weren’t even sure whether this was the Jaehyun you knew anymore. Perhaps, you had never truly known him as you had never really been interested in the people here. Then, you thought about not seeing Jaehyun ever again. And despite him always being a pain in your ass, you realized that you, too, would be missing something with him gone.
“Will you be gone for long?” you asked quietly, suddenly very scared for him.
“Only for a month, because my parents donated to this university.”
“Okay.” A month didn’t seem to be so long. Perhaps, by then, you would have your life back on track and your mind free to get to know the real Jeong Jaehyun. “I’ll wait.”
“When I’ll be back, will you tell me why you did that?” he asked. “You’re independent, intelligent and a fighter. Normally, you wouldn’t do that, I know.”
Perhaps, Jaehyun knew you better than you knew him.
“If I’m ready by then, I will.”
He smiled genuinely, and it made you smile too.
A tiny part of you, the one being able to read the atmosphere and discover the faint hint of true longing behind his eyes, wished that he’d kiss you at that moment. But as his back relaxed and his arms dropped to his sides, you, along with him, realized that perhaps, it was not the right time yet.
“I’ll wait,” you repeated.
“Okay,” Jaehyun said, the both of you knowing too well what to wait for this time.
____
Thanks for the congratulations and thanks for requesting dear, I hope you liked it 💞
#jaehyun#jeong jaehyun#jaehyun imagines#jaehyun scenarios#jaehyun fluff#jaehyun x you#jaehyun x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x you#nct x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop x you#requests
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A eventful court break
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Hihii! I decided to try my hand at writing since I'm "good" at it (According to teachers)
Anyway! Woe! Wrightworth tickles be upon ye!!
Context: This was based on a RP with a moot!
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The court had called a 15 minute court recess to allow the both the defense and prosecution time to skim over the case again, since the court had been active for 2 hours at that point. Pheonix felt it was a good idea to go over the case with Edgeworth's help. Edgeworth didn't feel so open to sharing what he knew though.
Pheonix had followed Edgeworth into his office, in an attempt to reason with him.
-------------------
"Wright, for the last time, I am NOT going over this case with you" Edgeworth huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance
"Edgeworth, please? You never used to be this distant!" Pheonix replied, growing increasingly more exhasperated at how cold his old friend had grown.
"That was a long time ago Wright, things simply aren't the same." Edgeworth stated.
"You used to be such an open, caring guy! What happened?" Pheonix said, recalling the countless moments of kindness and joy they had as kids.
"What are you on about, Wright? I was never this open, soft person you claim I was." Edgeworth sighed, hoping Pheonix would just drop it. It made him feel things no respectable prosecutor should. He had gotten rid of these unnecessary feelings a long time ago... right?
"Pfft, are you serious? You used to be the nicest person I knew. Even though you hid it from others, you never hid your soft side from me." Wright snickered, remembering their playfights and tick-... That's it! He thought. That's what i should try! Even if it doesn't make him go over the case with me, maybe- just maybe- he'll open up a little?
A smirk spread across Pheonix's face, not going unnoticed by Edgeworth.
"Wright, what in the world is with that strange expression if yours?" Edgeworth asked nervously. There was a part of him, hidden deeply inside of his mind, that instantly felt uneasy and nervous upon seeing Wright's smile. It was mischevious, and sprung up memories of their childhood playfights- tickle fights actually.
"Miles.. do you remember when we used to wrestle as kids?" Pheonix said in a chillingly smooth voice.
"W-Wright, what's with that look? What on earth are you thinking?" Edgeworth nervously stuttered, a small warmth spreading across his cheeks.
"Oh, I just found your 'tough guy' act amusing, after all... we both know how sensitive you are~" Pheonix purred, making Edgeworth shift nervously on the velvety red loveseat.
"Wright I-" before Edgeworth had time to finish his sentance, Pheonix had already pinned his hands to the soft arm rest.
"Wright, what the devil are you-!" He yelped before immediatly shutting up at Pheonix's following words.
"Hey, you might not want to yell. After all, it'd be a strange look for the defense to be found hovering on top of the prosecution~" Wright's wording and tone instantly caused a blush to creep it's way onto Edgeworth's face.
"What's this? The legendary 'demon prosecutor' is lost for words? Oh, you're even blushing!" Pheonix commented, becoming more and more smug by the second. If Edgeworth didn't try to take him down a peg, he'd be a goner for sure.
"W-Wright, if this is how you want to play, then fine. If I were you I wouldn't act all high and mighty, after all, I know how to have you begging in seconds" Edgeworth retorded with fake confidence, hoping Wright would fall for it- sure enough he did.
"Wh- I-" Pheonix stuttered, his grip on Edgeworth's wrists faltering. "W-well, I'm not a kid anymore, I've outgrown t- that." He huffed, hoping Edgeworth would drop it.
"Really, Pheonix? Honestly, I bet I'd be able to get you off of me in seconds, considering how sensitive your hips are." Edgeworth continued, growing more confident.
Pheonix's face burned red as he desperately tried to keep Edgeworth's hands from getting loose.
"Wh- Well Miles, why haven't you pushed me off yet? I bet the bailiff will be back any second to-" Pheonix started to balbber, hoping edgeworth would forget about his threats.
"You know what Wright? Good call~" Edgeworth said right as he pulled his hands out of Pheonix's grip and started kneading his lower ribs.
"Wahahait! Mihiles doHONT-!" Pheonix tries to grab Edgeworth's wrists as his entire body jolted at the ticklish sensations, and in the same motion he twisted sideways causing him to fall onto the loveseat, leaving him more vulnerable.
"Ehedgeworth thihis ihisn't- AhAHA-!" Pheonix laughed, kicking his legs as edgeworth straddles across his waist.
"Fair? Hm. Neither is pinning me down with your body weight" Edgeworth said, allowing a small smile to cross his usually ridgid features.
"Grrhrrr- NahaHAO EdgewohoHOrth! Thehe Bailiff WiHILL beHe here AhaHAny SEHECOND!" Pheonix growled, attempting to stifle his laughter, but failing miserably.
"Guess I'd better hurry to the best spot then, hm? If I remember correctly it's riiight... here!" Edgewort smirked as he worked his way up Pheonix's ribs as if he was playing the piano before digging into the ribs just slightly below his underarms.
"NOHO MIHIHILES PLEHEASE-" His laughter is cut off by a snort. "Oh, you still snort? How childish~" Edgeworth smiled, no ill intent being carried by his words.
"MIHILES PLEHEHEASE- NOHOT NOHOW-" His laugh was peppered with squeaks and snorts that made Edgeworth's stomach feel all fluttery.
"Okay, ohokay" Edgeworth chuckled, letting up on Pheonix and getting off of him. He watched Wright's smile and listened to his breathless giggles. As soon as they had both stood back up to recouperate the bailiff called them back to court over the radio. Miles smirked at Pheonix one final time and said"Not now, huh?~" before they went back into court.
Perhaps those feelings weren't as unecessary as he first felt they were.
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Hihi again! I did not spellcheck this sooo hope it's not too bad. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!
Also, tagging @nataliewritez and @tea-twords for helping me build confidence and inspire me to write again! Love ya'll!
#lee!pheonix#lee!wright#lee!pheonix wright#ler!edgeworth#ler!miles#ler!miles edgeworth#narumitsu#narumitsu tickles#wrightworth#wrightworth tickles#wrightworth tickle fic#ace attorney tickle fic
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Summary: After watching the ninja fail to reform Morro, Ronin decides to step in and take care of the problem.
Warnings: Drowning, attempted murder.
Prompts: Fear of Water/Bridge
Morrotober: Day Twenty-Seven
Morro had never been so scared in either of his lives, and not during his time being dead, either. He tried to calm himself; sure, he was tied up, bound in vengestone cuffs, and dangling upside-down mere inches above the rushing river, but Ronin was the ninja's ally, sometimes, most of the time, he hoped. Surely they could make him see reason.
If they ever showed up.
"Huh," Ronin said, peering down at him from the bridge. "I kinda thought someone would at least, y'know, pretend to care."
Morro twisted in his binds, swinging back and forth on the rope, but to no avail. "You really think you're going to get away with this?" he snarled, though his voice was pitched high in fear.
"I mean, I've gotten away with worse." Ronin shrugged. "I'm probably doing them a favor, getting rid of a little creep like you. Don't know why they're bothering to try and reform you."
It was because Wu couldn't let go of the son he never had, just like Morro couldn't help but wish for a family he didn't deserve. Morro bit back a retort and continued to struggle.
He looked up again to see Ronin holding a knife against the rope. "Any last words?"
What Morro should have said was something, anything to prove that he wasn't the same person he was when he orchestrated the destruction of Stiix.
What he actually said was, "I should have let Soul Archer take you."
And then he hit the water.
The only thought in his mind was that he was going to die. The river roared around him, tumbling him around and around until he had screamed out all his air, hastening his drowning in his terror. He was going to die, and he was going to die having never been kind to anyone, having never felt happiness in either of his miserable lives.
He didn't believe it when the water spit him out on the shore–surely the blue sky was a hallucination brought on by a lack of oxygen. Then he inhaled, and there was fresh air to fill his lungs and replace the water he was coughing out.
"Are you alright?"
Morro blinked rapidly. "Water Ninja?" he croaked.
Nya sawed through the ropes around his chest and legs while he lay there gasping. "The others are dealing with Ronin," she said, spitting the thief's name like a curse. "He's lucky if I ever speak to him again, that bastard."
"He said you weren't coming.
"We thought you got arrested again." Nya fumbled with the vengestone cuffs until they unlocked with a click and she pulled them off. "Didn't realize you'd been kidnapped until later. I'm just glad we weren't too late. Get up."
Morro didn't move. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs, and he was content to lie there shivering until the cold killed him instead of the water. "Why?"
"What, do you want me to carry you?"
"Why did you save me?"
Nya huffed. "What, like Ronin's qualified to be judge, jury, and executioner? If you deserved to die, you would've stayed dead the first time." She put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him up to a sitting position. "Come on, Wu's freaking out."
Somehow, Morro got his feet underneath him. Somehow, he hobbled to the Bounty, leaning on Nya to stay upright. Somehow, he wrapped his arms around Wu and accepted the love from the man he used to call his father.
And the flicker within him–the smallest resolve to change and redeem himself–somehow, the water had not extinguished it, and it burned brighter than it ever had.
#morrotober#wojira duo#ninjago morro#ninjago nya#ninjago#lego ninjago#morro ninjago#nya ninjago#morrotober2022#morrotober 2022
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The elemental
In an RV an old man drove with his two granddaughters in the back. Gwen, his oldest granddaughter sat at a table typing on a computer. In the back of the RV where the bunks were was his youngest granddaughter Jen. She was sitting on her bed with a phone to her ear and tears in her eyes.
"no mom I....but it-it...yes ma'am." the woman on the other end of the phone yelled something before hanging up. Jen let her hands fall into her lap and pulled her knees to her chest. Tears streamed down her face like an endless river and it didn't help her situation when the RV suddenly stopped.
Jen quickly wiped her eyes and rushed outside to see the situation. A big oak tree had collapsed onto the road and was crushing a car. Inside was an innocent family who were fearing for their lives. Jen gasped and quickly rushed forward past her grandpa and cousin.
Jen stood a few feet away and stomped her foot on the ground while raising her hands in a quick motion. Dark vein-looking lines spread on Jen's arms and legs while Pieces of the pavement oddly similar to pillars shot up lifting the tree off of the car. Everyone stared in shock but no one focused on Jen. People quickly rushed over and helped the family out of their vehicle and to safety.
Jen sighed and dropped the pillars then turned to head back to the RV. Before Jen could fully turn around a hand gripped her wrist and started pulling her. "Ouch! Grandpa that hurts!" Jen cried referring to the man's tight grip. Max didn't listen and drug Jen into the RV and sat her down in anger. He was fuming and Gwen stood behind him with an evil smile.
"What were you thinking using your bending like that?" Max asked sternly and Jen began to tear up "those people needed help and besides no one was even looking at me." Jen said and Max pinched the bridge of his nose "yes, but someone could have seen you." Jen let her tears fall as her grandpa carried on lecturing her.
"But it isn't fair, Gwen is constantly turning into aliens and you never yell at her," Jen said and Max groaned in frustration. "look, this is enough I don't want to see you bending again," Max said and Jen growled before storming to the back with red veins covering her body while she left a trail of flaming footsteps. Max quickly put out the flames and went out to help move the tree so everyone could get on the road again.
Gwen stared at the back room not even feeling sorry for her cousin. It was her fault she should know better than to use her powers. "what a freak." Gwen said then got back on her computer. "I wonder why they haven't gotten rid of her already?" Gwen wondered aloud not caring if Jen heard her say it.
In the back, Jen had her face buried in her pillow to muffle her cries. Why did it have to be her, why did she have to be cursed with these powers and hated by everyone? Jen cried even louder and dug her nails into the pillow ripping it. Jen sniffled and lay down not bothering to cover up or dry her eyes. She curled in on herself wanting to be as small as possible and fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~
Max stepped back into the RV after the tree was moved and saw Gwen on her computer. He smiled then frowned and headed to the back of the RV. Max saw Jen curled into a tiny ball snoring lightly. Max walked over and covered Jen up and rubbed her head before heading to the driver's seat. He started driving while wondering if he was too harsh with Jen, all she wanted to do was help. Max shook the thoughts from his head and focused on the road.
~~~~~~~~~
The next day the family was walking around a grocery store stocking up. Max noticed Jen's content silence since she woke up that morning. He pursed his lips and tried to think and then it came to him. "Jen, can you go grab these things?" Max asked while writing on a piece of paper.
Jen nodded and he handed her the paper and she walked off. Gwen looked at Max confused "was that a good idea, what if she uses her bending?" She asked crossing her arms. Max smiled and kept shopping "I'm sure it'll be okay." Max said while hoping the items on the list would cheer Jen up.
Jen hummed as she stood in the produce section of the store looking at strawberries. She wanted to make sure the ones she grabbed were good so she was taking her time. After Jen picked the strawberries she did the same with the blueberries and blackberries. Jen looked at the list "hmm, sliced almond check, berries check, I just need whip cream, cinnamon, and syrup." Jen mumbled then grabbed her basket.
Jen hummed as she walked down the various aisles looking for the ingredients. She knew what her grandfather was doing but it wasn't working. Jen sighed grabbing the powdered sugar and figured she could just fake a smile. Jen then saw the cinnamon on a high shelf that she couldn't reach. Jen hummed then checked both ends of the aisle and saw no one.
"just a small one," Jen said and crossed her forearms in a quick motion then back forming a tiny ball of air. Jen felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips as she watched the air swirl round and round. She aimed it at the cinnamon and flicked her wrist the air flew up knocking it down and into Jen's basket. Jen kept her faint smile and then went to get the whipped cream.
~~~~~~~~~
"here you go Grandpa," Jen said as she found her grandpa and cousin. Max smiled seeing Jen's lips curve up slightly "alright, we are ready to check out then." Max said and headed to the front of the store. Jen and Gwen followed neither bothering to say anything to one another knowing it wouldn't end well.
As they finished checking out a giant explosion was heard in the electronics. It was followed by screaming and Gwen was quick to go alien. Jen was about to follow after her but Max stopped her. "What?" "go put the groceries and stuff away we will handle this," he said then ran off to assist Gwen. Jen stood there for a moment before doing as she was told.
"I could help, why won't anyone let me help?" Jen muttered as she headed for the RV. Jen was only halfway to the RV when she heard a loud ear-piercing screech. Before Jen could look for the source of the noise she was lifted off of the ground by a giant mutant bird. Jen stared in horror "Hey, let me down!" Jen screamed while trying to struggle free.
The bird had a tight grip but Jen wanted down. Dark blue vein's covered, Jen and a fire hydrant below exploded. Jen sent the water into the bird's face making it drop her. Jen twisted and formed the water into two large fists and smashed the bird's back knocking it to the ground.
"AHHH!" Jen screamed realizing how close to the ground she was. The dark blue veins were quickly replaced with light blue veins as a strong force of air gently lowered Jen to the ground. Jen was breathing heavily and gripping her chest "What a thrill!" Jen exclaimed standing to her feet. Jen's joy was short-lived when she heard a pained groan coming from the other side of the bird.
Jen quickly rushed around and saw a man with some sort of device on his head. Jen gasped and rushed over kneeling beside the man. He was on the verge of blacking out and was covered in cuts and bruises. "oh no!" Jen gently laid the man down and removed the device from his head. Jen reached her hand out and pulled the water from some nearby plants then gently wrapped it around the man's injuries.
They healed in a matter of seconds. Jen smiled but was suddenly grabbed by Gwen who was four arms. "What are you doing?" Gwen growled walking away with Jen struggling in her grip. "Gwen, he was hurt and he is unconscious," Jen said trying to pull away from her cousin. "He was the one causing all the trouble and tried to kidnap you," Gwen said and tossed Jen into the RV where Max stood with a stern look, and Jen was grounded.
~~~~~~~~~
Later that day Max stood in front of a grill making dinner, Gwen was nearby reading a book, and Jen was inside on the phone with her mother. "But mom-.....Why can't I?...... How is it my fault?" Jen had tears streaming down her face while her mother talked. Jen grit her teeth as her tears flowed much heavier "Well maybe you should have gone through with the-" Jen stopped as she heard her mother hang up the phone.
Jen tossed her phone and curled into a ball. "why me?" was all Jen said as she stared at the wall with teary eyes. Eventually, Jen cried herself to sleep ignoring the growl of her stomach.
#ben 10#genderbend#Jen 10#Elemental powers#Kevin levin#Gwen Tennyson#Grandpa Max#Hex#Charmcaster#Bevin#Slight Gwevin#Time travel
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