#sorry it took me so long to put this one out
Text
i'll never leave. never mind.
alexia putellas x reader
after the loss of her brother, r tries to deal with her world collapsing. alexia is determined to help her through it, but r doesn't want to drag her girlfriend down with her. some things in life are just too hard to overcome; for r, will this be one of them? angst + fluff. mentions of suicide.
basically, a long fic about grief and healing. this is so sad and so long im so sorry. fluff throughout though, because i'm me.
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The phone was staring at you, you were sure. Or maybe it was the missed calls from your girlfriend, the dry texts you’d sent her that gave no indication of how you were feeling. You were at the airport, flying back to Barcelona, and Alexia didn’t even know you were coming. Originally, you weren’t supposed to fly back until the weekend. You’d moved your flight up, though, beyond desperate to see Alexia.
Your perfect girlfriend, who had been checking on you everyday. Who had offered to come to you if you needed her, no matter what it took. You’d been distant, and you knew it. From the moment you’d heard, you’d pulled away from Alexia. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, and it wasn’t what you’d wanted, but there was no choice for you. Everyone else had to come first.
You were putting everyone else first when you played in the second leg against Chelsea, hours after finding out that your brother was dead. When you flew home right from London, but didn’t let Alexia go with you. When you’d insisted she return to Barcelona with the team, that she couldn’t come with you. When you only called her to say a brief goodnight, only returned her texts to assure her that you were, in fact, okay.
It would have made her insecure, maybe, if she hadn’t been so sure of what you were doing. Alexia had always been your safe place. The person you were always comfortable crying in front of, the person you told your biggest fears too. Avoiding her meant avoiding feeling.
You were the oldest, and with that came the responsibility to be strong. For your parents and your other siblings, you had to be the strong one. Alexia had heard from your sister, Bella, that you’d taken care of everything related to the funeral. You’d jumped head first into planning it, barely taking a second to greet your family before you were asking about flower arrangements and eulogies. Bella told Alexia that she hadn’t seen you shed a single tear. You were a shell of yourself, yes, but it was numbness that you radiated, not pain. Not the agony she was sure you were feeling. You had decided that you had to be strong for everyone else, and that meant not feeling any of it. That meant pushing down every emotion, no matter what it took.
And if anyone understood that, it was Alexia. She had done the same thing when she’d lost her father; held everything together for her sister and her mother. She pretended she was fine. Alexia had held her sister as she cried, and helped her mother cook and clean and plan. She’d been the oldest, and she’d been strong too.
Alexia had lasted a few weeks, pretending she was okay. Before every emotion she’d ignored spilled out and she broke. Completely and entirely broke. And she knew, very well, that you were headed for the same thing if you didn’t stop pushing everything down.
There wasn’t much she could do from hundreds of miles away, though, so she did her best to text and call you and remind you, every second of every day, that she loved you more than anything. And that she was only a phone call away. Even if you hadn’t been very receptive to these reminders, you’d noticed, and she knew you appreciated them.
Now, though, sitting in the bustling airport, you were afraid to go home. Afraid to face your girlfriend, whom you’d been practically ignoring. Afraid to face the reality that was regular life without your brother. Afraid to face every dark and painful emotion you’d been ignoring. You pushed and pushed and pushed them away, until you couldn’t really even remember what it felt like to feel. You were numb. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to stay that way or not.
What you did want, though, was Alexia. You wanted her to hold you, wanted to hear her heartbeat in your ear. Feel her kiss the top of your head, and scratch your back as you fell asleep. So, it was to Barcelona, to home, to Alexia, that you went, 5 full days before you were supposed to. You just needed to work up the guts to tell Alexia that you were coming home.
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Alexia made up her mind to fly to you half a dozen times, only to talk herself out of it. She had no idea how you were feeling, how you were doing, other than the very unsettling updates she’d gotten from your sister. She ached to hear your voice and feel your warm body pressed against hers; she was miserable.
The team had just arrived at Johan for the midweek match when you finally did call her. Shushing everyone dramatically, Alexia rushed out of the room and answered.
“Hi Ale.”
“Mi amor.” She sighed, deeply relieved to hear the sound of your voice. You sounded numb and completely unlike yourself, but you were calling her all the same.
“Hi.” You repeated, a bit weakly. “I just wanted to wish you good luck.”
Alexia wanted to cry. Your brother's funeral had been today, and still you remembered to call her and wish her luck on a match she was a bit nervous for. “Thank you, amor. How are you? Are you sure I can’t come today after the match? You are there through this weekend, I want to be with you.”
“No, no it’s okay. I’m at the airport right now, actually. I’ll be home tonight.” You admitted, nibbling on your lip anxiously.
“You are coming home today? I thought you were going to stay with your family for a bit longer.” Alexia was thrilled, honestly, but still confused.
“I was, but I changed my mind. It’s been crazy here, I just want to come home.”
“Okay, amor. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. When do you land?”
“Right before the match ends. I’ll probably beat you home.”
“I am excited to see you, bebe. I have missed you so much.” The captain told you gently, using the soft voice that she really only used with you. One that was dripping with love.
“I’ve missed you too.” You whispered. “You have no idea.”
“Soon though. Soon. I will come home straight after the game.”
“Thank you, Alexia. For being so understanding and patient, I’m sorry I’ve been weird this week-”
“Do not apologize, please. You have nothing to be sorry for.” She paused, hearing shouts of her name coming from the other room. “I have to go, but I’ll see you soon. So soon.”
“Bye, Ale. I love you, good luck today.”
After hanging up, Alexia knew she had to get her head in the game. There was a match to play, a team that needed her. And even if her heart was boarding a plane in England, getting ready to fly back to her, she had to focus. For the next few hours at least.
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Alexia was barely through the door before you were crashing into her arms, absolutely launching your body at hers. You were trembling, trying to contain the whine that came from deep in your throat at the feeling of being safe again. The blonde grabbed you fiercely, pulling you into her arms and squeezing tight. You were lifted off the ground briefly, but you barely even registered it, gripping the blonde’s sweatshirt tight in your fists and shoving your face into her shoulder.
Alexia had been trying not to be worried this whole time that you didn’t need her, didn’t want her. She knew, logically, why you were acting the way you had been, but she wasn’t immune to doubts and insecurity. Now, though, with you holding onto her for dear life, she knew she’d been ridiculous.
“My girl. I’ve got you.” She whispered, feeling you nod into her chest. After a minute, Alexia eased you back and took your face in between her hands, trying to get a good look at your face. You looked like you’d lost weight, and like you hadn’t slept in days. Your eyes were cloudy, gazing up at Alexia like you barely knew she was there. She wasn’t quite sure what to do with you now that she had you back with her. You looked so unlike yourself, so out of it. Alexia didn't think she could get anymore worried, but that was before she’d seen you.
You weren’t crying, just shaking. Just holding onto Alexia like you were afraid if you let go, she’d disappear.
“I saw your goal.” You said after a minute.
Alexia smiled gently at you, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “It was for you, and for Wesley.”
You flinched at your brother’s name. At the reminder of what had happened. Any minute you could go without thinking about it was a victory, but when you inevitably remembered, it felt like the weight of the world settled back on your shoulders.
And it was this weight that prompted what you said next.
“I think we should take a break.” You said blankly, avoiding the midfielder’s eyes at all cost.
Alexia was stunned into silence for a minute. A different day, a different Alexia, and she would have shut down. Taken your statement as rejection, and left the apartment without another word. But everything about your body language was screaming to her that you didn't mean it. Still gripping her shirt tightly in your hands, still trembling in her arms, you seemed terrified to allow your girlfriend to help you, and terrified to allow her to go.
“No.” Alexia said simply.
“Ale, I can’t do this. I have to deal with this, I don’t- I can’t. Everything is so messed up now. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t put you through this, too. I can’t make you figure this out with me. We should just take a few weeks apart, so I can pull myself together, and you don’t have to worry-”
“Stop. No. You are not putting me through anything. I am committed to you, I love you, and I am not going anywhere. Especially not now. If you think I am going to let you go through this alone, you are crazy. You need me, how could I go?”
“I… I don’t need you.” You said weakly, as if you hadn’t tackled her in a hug the moment you saw her, as if you weren’t inching closer to her every passing second, like the small amount of space in between the two of you was too much.
“You do. And I know that is scary, but I am not leaving. Let me be here. Please.”
“I’m not… I’m not okay.” It was barely more than a mumble, but Alexia nodded sympathetically.
“You are not okay. You don’t need to protect me from that, amor. I can be strong for the both of us. I can be whatever you need me to be.”
A small whimper fell from your lips before you could stop it. There wasn’t any fight left in you, now, not when Alexia was saying all the right things. “You’re sure?”
Alexia pulled you in once more, and tucked your head under her chin. “I am sure.”
“Okay.” You allowed, leaning back after a moment to place a very gentle kiss on your girlfriend’s cheek.
Taking your face into her hands, Alexia frowned, her thumb tracing over the dark circles under your eyes. You looked shattered, drained completely of energy. “Amor…”
“Can we go to sleep, Ale? I’m really tired.”
Alexia could tell. “Of course. Did you not sleep well while you were gone?”
“No.” You sighed, before hesitantly continuing. “I barely slept, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to now, but I always sleep better next to you, but I don’t know if you’re tired…”
Alexia nodded enthusiastically. “Whatever you need, amor. You have to eat something first, though.”
You looked away from her. “I ate at the airport.”
Alexia hummed, a sinking feeling growing in her chest. “No you didn’t. Do you want to shower while I make you something?”
You nodded begrudgingly, and Alexia kissed you on the cheek before sending you on your way.
Dinner was a quiet affair. You came out of the shower looking just as you had before. Numb, broken. Alexia had made your favorite for dinner, and you ate as much as you could, which really, wasn’t much at all. The blonde was just glad to get some food into you. You didn’t really remember Alexia pulling you into the bedroom, or tugging on pajamas that were definitely hers. Suddenly, you were in your bed, head resting against Alexia’s chest, her heartbeat steady in your ear. Suddenly, you were safe again. Safe to feel, safe to hurt. You’d just spent so much time not doing either of those things, that you weren’t really sure how to access the emotions you’d spent days repressing. All you knew was that you didn’t want Alexia to ever let you go.
“Mi amor, do you want to talk?” Her chest vibrated under you as you spoke.
“About what?”
“How you are feeling?”
“I’m… coping.” You told her weakly. Alexia’s hand found its way into your hair, carefully running through the wet strands. You sighed quietly, snuggling in closer to your girlfriend, even as you knew she was pushing you to have a conversation you didn't really want to partake in.
“I do not think you are. I talked to your sister, she is worried about you. I am too. Please, just talk to me.”
You turned slightly, hiding your face more in Alexia’s shirt. “I don’t know what to say, Ale. I don’t know where to start.”
She hummed sympathetically. “Can I ask you questions? Would that be easier?”
And you didn’t want to answer questions, but you knew it was best if you opened up to Alexia, even if it was just a little, so you nodded.
“How was your flight?” She asked. You cracked a smile at her question, clocking that she was starting off simple to ease you into talking to her. She knew you so well, sometimes it felt like she knew you better than you knew yourself.
“Alright. I slept for most of it, but I watched some of the match.”
For the next few minutes, Alexia asked questions about your trip, about your sister’s new haircut that you hated. You wilted slightly when she asked about your other brother, and she picked up on that right away.
“Why did you come home so early?” She wondered. You inhaled deeply, rolling off of her and onto your back. You stared at the ceiling, knowing that the truth would make her angry. Not at you, but angry nonetheless, and you didn’t want that.
“I missed you a lot.” You murmured, refusing to look her in the eye, even as she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow facing you.
“I missed you, too. Every second you were gone.” She promised, gently removing a stray eyelash from the side of your face and holding it out for you to blow away. It was an adorable habit she had, always insisting you make a wish. “There is more, though.”
There was no question in Alexia’s words and you sighed again, nodding slowly. “I got into an argument with Bennett. About Wes. We weren’t really speaking to each other after the funeral and it was so tense in the house, I just had to get out of there.”
“What did you fight about?”
A tear slid down your face as you shook your head. “I don’t want to talk about that, please.”
“Okay bebé.” Alexia wiped the tear away with her thumb, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your eye, as if to soothe your tears. She pulled the covers of the bed higher, desperately trying to make you more comfortable as you suddenly looked to be in agonizing pain. “Did your parents and your sister choose sides?”
Alexia knew your family well enough to know how an argument would go. Normally, your sister and your older brother would easily agree with your parents, regardless of the topic. And your parents always took their side. Bella and Bennett were twins, the golden children, and it was clear for anyone to see that your parents treated them differently. Without Wes around to mediate, Alexia was sure that you would have been all alone in whatever you were fighting about, and she knew how much you despised conflict.
Bottom lip wobbling pathetically, you nodded. “Yeah. They all agreed with Ben. None of them… none of them were really talking to me when I left. Bella felt bad, but my parents didn’t say goodbye when I left for the airport.”
The midfielders stomach twisted at that, knowing how desperately you sought your parents praise and approval. For them to let you fly back across the continent without even a goodbye, after losing their son, after you lost your brother, was cruel. “I am so sorry, amor. That isn’t fair.”
“I feel like everyone is mad at me.” You whispered, linking your fingers with Alexia’s.
“I am not mad at you.” Alexia replied, leaning in against to kiss the corner of your mouth. “You are my favorite person in the world, and I am not mad at you. Does that feel better?”
“Yeah.” You told her, finally shifting to look up at her face. Another few tears slipped down your face and you took a shaky breath. “I want this to all be some horrible nightmare. I want to wake up and find out he’s still here. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
“What do you feel?” Alexia asked again, still not letting a single tear make it off your face before she swiped it away.
This time, you answered her.
“Everything hurts.”
“I know.” She whispered, doing her best to pull you closer into her body.
“I feel like… like I'm broken. Like I'm suffocating. Like I will never feel whole again. I am empty. And I am so fucking sad but I can’t feel it. I can’t make myself feel it. It’s there, locked away, and all I can do is sit. And think. And wish I was dead instead of him.” The last sentence was barely audible, but Alexia heard it clearly.
She shut her eyes tightly, wrapping her arms tighter around you, as if that would make it better. “Please do not say that.”
“He called me. That night, he called me and I declined the call. Because we had a match the next day. And now he's dead, and it is my fault.” You admitted, feeling simultaneously like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders at your confession, but another weight added on with the knowledge that your girlfriend would not know exactly what kind of awful person you were.
But Alexia was Alexia, and she didn’t even flinch at your words. She simply pressed a kiss to your temple and said the words you’d been aching to hear. Words you wanted to believe, words you were scared you never would. “You could not have known, that is not your fault.”
You looked up at her, trying to gauge the sincerity of what she was saying, and found only overwhelming love in her eyes. It was too much. It was love you didn’t deserve. Not when this was your fault. You had never been more convinced in your life than in that moment that you didn't’ deserve Alexia. Her love, her care, her affection, her perfection. She was wholly too good for you. “I don’t even know how you can look at me right now, Ale.”
Your girlfriend shook her head, stunned that you would think such a thing. That you would expect her to blame you for something that was not your fault. Her touch was delicate as she pushed a lock of hair away from your forehead and it was too kind. Too soft.
You yanked yourself out of her arms, even if it felt like you were ripping your heart out of your chest in doing so. With no destination in mind, you walked away from the bed and tried to leave the room, but Alexia grabbed you first.
“My love.” She murmured, drawing you into a tight embrace. Alexia very rarely used terms of endearment for you that weren’t in spanish. She only did so when she wanted you to hear what she was saying, clearly. Her hands were insistent on your face, tilting it up so that you could only look into her warm hazel eyes. There was nothing but adoration on her face, and you were sure you didn’t deserve it. “I can look at you because I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you. What happened is not your fault.”
You shook your head pathetically, but your movements were stilled by Alexia’s strong hands on either side of your face.
“It is not your fault.” She insisted. “And I cannot imagine what you are feeling right now, but I will always be kind to you. Even when you are not being kind to yourself.”
You shut your eyes tightly, desperately trying not to cry. Pitching forward, you pressed your face into Ale’s chest, unable to resist the peace and comfort that she provided. She shushed you softly, raining kisses down onto the top of your head.
“It hurts, Ale,” you whimpered.
Alexia held you tighter.
“I know, bebé. This is so hard, mi amor, I know that. But you will get through this. We will get through this together. I will not leave your side for a single second, do you understand? I love you. You are going to be okay.”
Without even being aware that Alexia was moving you, you suddenly found yourself back on the bed, sitting sideways across your girlfriend’s lap. She was always so gentle. So kind. And you didn’t deserve it, you knew that. But the thought of having to go through this without her was overwhelming, devastating. You fought against the urge to cry, terrified that if you let go, she would leave.
“I can’t do this without you,” you whimpered, holding tightly to her shirt and pressing your face into her neck. You could feel her nod from there, and you settled a bit, especially as her grip on you was tight and unrelenting.
“You will not have to. I am here with you, mi amor. Right here with you.” She promised, shifting to wrap one arm around your midsection and cradle the back of your head with her other hand.
“I-I… I can’t,” you stuttered, trying to swallow the lump in your throat even as it constricted tighter and tighter and you knew your efforts would be futile.
“It is alright, bebé. You can cry. I am right here.” She affirmed again.
A choked sob fell from your lips as you finally gave in, as the tidal wave of emotion you’d been running from finally caught up to you. It dragged you under the surface over and over, until you could hardly breathe. Until there was nothing else in the room with you but despair.
You cried for your brother, for who he was and who he would never become.
For yourself. Because you didn’t answer the phone, but also because you knew deep in your soul that answering would not have changed anything.
You cried for your siblings, for your parents. Who were so destroyed that they sought out something, someone to blame. Even though they landed on you, even though you needed them. They needed you, but differently. They needed to blame you. It had to be your fault, or it might be theirs.
You cried for Alexia, because you knew you had put her through hell the past week, and it would only continue. You cried because she was perfect and because you loved her. You cried because she loved you.
You cried for the first time since hearing about what had happened. You cried for sweet, sweet Wes, who deserved better from everyone in his life. You included, but not only you.
You cried because it felt like a part of you was dead, too.
The part that was still alive, though, forced you to listen. To Alexia’s steady heartbeat, and the soft words she whispered. To her reminders to breathe, and her reminders that she loved you. If what you were feeling was a tsunami, Alexia was the high ground that would keep you safe. Keep you alive.
You clung to that safety, that security. Without her, you might have drifted off. Not to sleep, but away. You’d never have to find out, though. Because Alexia wasn’t going anywhere. Not when you cried, not when you couldn’t breathe, not when you couldn’t speak. She’d bring you back to her every time. Because she loved you. And it didn't matter that you weren’t sure you were deserving of her love. She loved you anyway.
Once your cries had slowed to pitiful sniffles, the midfielder laid you down carefully next to her, curling her body around yours. You were engulfed in her arms, and the soft blankets on the bed, a safe little cocoon. Alexia couldn’t tell if your eyes were half shut because they were swollen from crying, or if you were exhausted. Probably both.
Her finger traced little shapes over your cheek as she whispered to you. “Sleep mi amor. I’ve got you. You are safe, and you are okay. Just relax.”
Her eyes were locked on yours, encouraging you to give in and let yourself rest. Her words, too, felt like a very convincing drug, and you were letting your cheek rest against her chest before you knew it, letting the repetitive beating of her heart lull you to sleep.
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You slept solidly, for the first time in a week. Straight through the night, no interruptions. Well, until morning came, and then you were awoken by quiet crunching. You stretched a bit, not yet ready to open your eyes, but aware from the amount of sun in the room that it was late morning. The crunching stopped as soon as you moved, and you quickly realized you were not curled up against your girlfriend, like you normally slept. Rolling over, you squinted your eyes open and saw Alexia looking guilty down at you, a handful of granola in her hand frozen halfway to her mouth.
“Sorry.” She whispered.
It wasn’t really that funny, but you found yourself giggling to yourself, until Alexia started laughing with you.
“You had to get the crunchiest thing in the kitchen?” You questioned, barely getting the words out through your laughter.. She shook her head at you, putting the bag of granola down and pulling you into her arms.
“I was going for what would leave the most crumbs in the sheets.” She said cheerily, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.
“You are so dumb.” You chuckled, sighing comfortably back in her embrace.
“I am smart.” Alexia declared, before she turned slightly serious. “You can sleep more if you need, bonita. It is 11:30, but we do not have anything we need to do today.”
“No, it’s okay. I should get up.”
“Thank god. I am starving and you make better breakfast than I do.”
You fought a smile, finding the effort she was putting in to make you laugh quite endearing. “You could have woken me if you were hungry. Or gone and gotten something to eat.” Your attempt to slide out of bed was halted by Alexia’s grip tightening around you, her voice soft in your ear.
“No, you needed to rest. And you were holding on to me in your sleep. I did not want to leave you for long.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“No, no apologies. You need me, I am here. If you need me to lay in bed and cuddle you for half the day, I am more than happy to do that.” She said it so earnestly, you almost felt like crying.
“Ale, you know I love you, right? More than anything?”
She nodded, shifting you in her arms to be able to press her forehead to yours. “And I love you. More than all the stars in the sky.”
You gave her a watery smile, gently pecking her lips with yours. “That is very corny.”
“There are no ways to tell you how I love you without being corny. You will just have to get used to it.” Alexia whispered, connecting her lips with yours again. It was soft and loving, reflecting everything she’d just said to you. Alexia always made sure to tell you what she felt about you, as well as show you. She was perfect in that way.
-----
Your words from the previous evening hung between you both like a dark cloud. Alexia was doing her best to treat you normally, you could tell. She didn’t want to hover, but she was filled to the brim with worry for you. So, you took the first step, and brought it up while the two of you were making breakfast.
Clearing your throat, you focused on carefully cutting up the fruit, sure that if you kept yourself slightly distracted, you wouldn’t get too upset.“Last night. What I said…”
“What did you say?” Alexia asked casually, though you could feel her eyes burning into the back of your head from the opposite counter.
“I said that I wished I-”
“I remember.” Alexia cut you off not unkindly, abandoning the coffee she was making in favor of walking to you and wrapping her arms around your abdomen. Her chin perched itself on your shoulder, and you leaned back into her, letting your eyes flutter shut.
“I didn’t mean it.” You told her. Her silence told you she was skeptical, and she should have been. “Okay, I did mean it. But I would never do anything stupid, okay? I would never… do what he did. I am upset and I am hurting but I know… know that I can be okay again. I think.”
All the tension left your girlfriend’s body, and you were only aware of how stressed she had been once she relaxed. She sagged into you, burying her face in the crook of your neck and nodding rapidly. “Good. Good. I love you. So much.” You moved to return to chopping your fruit, but the blonde took the knife from your hand and set it down, before spinning you to face her. She was completely serious as she addressed you. “If you ever felt like that,”
“Alexia, I am not going to...” You let the sentence fade out, inhaling deeply again before you continued. “I wouldn’t do that to you, or to my family, I wouldn’t be that-”
You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Alexia didn’t let you pull out of her grasp like you wanted to, studying your face closely.
“You are angry with him, sí?” Alexia asked carefully. She was too perceptive for her own good sometimes.
“Yeah.” Admitting it felt like a betrayal.
“That is okay. You can be angry.”
You weren’t convinced and Alexia ached to make you understand that your feelings, whatever they were, were valid. Still, she knew when to push and when not to, so she let it go. For now.
With a soft kiss on your lips, she nudged you back to the fruit, whining dramatically that she was hungry. Alexia could always make a situation light hearted again with just a few words, and that was something you realized you hadn’t appreciated enough until now.
-----
Alexia’s brain hurt from thinking. Around and around in circles, wishing she could convince herself she was wrong about the conclusion she had come to. You were sitting in between her legs on the couch, half watching the football match on TV, half enjoying the way Alexia’s fingers played with your hair. She couldn’t stop thinking about the fight you’d said you had with your brother, and what it could have been about. How bad it could have been for you to leave home early, for your parents not to be speaking to you, especially after everything that had happened. Alexia thought and thought and thought until she couldn’t take it anymore, and then she just asked.
“Can I ask you something?” The blonde murmured, finishing the braid she was twisting your hair into, only to take it out and start again.
Her hands playing with your hair was ridiculously soothing, and you only hummed in response.
“The fight with your brother? Was that about Wes calling you that night?”
All the work Alexia had done to get your body to relax was undone as soon as the words left her mouth. Your shoulders scrunched back up, and you went back to picking at your cuticles. You’d already made a few nails bleed this morning, and your girlfriend sighed internally as you another one began to bleed, too.
“Yes. I didn’t tell them right away, but my dad went through Wes’ phone and that was the last call he made.” Your voice broke, and Alexia abandoned your hair in favor of pulling you into her, your back to her front. “He asked me about it, and Ben just… freaked out.”
“What did Bennett say?” She wondered, pulling each of your hands into hers in an effort to stop the damage you were inflicting on your nails.
“He said I should have answered. That is wasn’t enough that I left the country for football, left Wes behind, but I ignored his call even though family is supposed to be the most important thing. And that he blames me. He said that if I had answered, Wes would be alive.”
“What did your parents say?”
“They agreed with Ben. Said I shouldn’t come home until I decide to start putting my family first. My dad said…” Again, you trailed off. This time, it was because you weren’t sure you had the strength to repeat what had been said to you.
“Tell me, baby.” Alexia encouraged, hoping that if she held you tight enough, the pain would leave you alone for a while.
“He said it was my fault his son was dead, and if there was any justice in the world it would have been me instead.” You whispered, Alexia’s sharp intake of air closely mirroring what your reaction had been. “I moved my flight after that. I still had to go to the funeral, but I wanted to leave as soon as I could.”
It was overwhelming, everything your girlfriend was feeling, and she couldn’t even imagine the turmoil you were in at the moment. The urge to call your father and give him a piece of her mind was almost as strong as the urge to wrap you up in a blanket against her and never let anyone hurt you again. Almost.
“Mi preciosa, he is wrong. That is not true. Your brother never would have wanted you to blame yourself. He loved you so much, and he knew you loved him too. He would be angry if he knew how everyone was treating you. Amor, you know this, right?”
Your shrug was not good enough for Alexia.
“This was not your fault. It is not on you. You are a good person, and an incredible sister. Your parents and Bennett, they are hurting, but they should not have said the things they have said. It hurts them that this happened out of their control, and they just want someone to blame. It is not fair that it is you, amor, but they are wrong. They are so, so wrong.”
“I want to believe that.” You replied, hanging onto her every word even if it felt like everything she was saying was much too generous to you. “I just don’t know how to.”
Alexia nodded, her lips finding your cheek in a gentle peck. “I will remind you every day, until you believe it. You are good, you are loved, and this was not your fault.” She repeated herself, and you shut your eyes, trying to force the reassurances to seep into your brain, and hopefully stay there.
When you opened your eyes again, turning slightly so you could see her face, you believed her just a bit more. Bit by bit, Alexia would convince you. Just like she’d convinced you that she loved you. Like she’d convinced you to let her start putting some of her clothes in your half of the closet, and that cappuccinos were better than lattes. She was persuasive, your Alexia. Unrelenting, determined, and persuasive. When she set her mind on something, she didn’t give up. It was this tendency of hers that had you almost convinced that you’d survive this. Even if it was the hardest thing you’d ever do, Alexia would get you through it.
“What have I done to deserve you?” You murmured, looking up at her with something close to awe on your face.
“You did not have to do anything. I love you. You deserve to be loved.” Alexia replied easily. She didn’t think twice before she spoke. It wouldn’t ever not surprise you how easily, how fully, Alexia loved you, and that was okay. You never wanted Alexia’s love to grow mundane, or unsurprising. You wanted the force of her love to always knock you off your feet, just a little. Because you were pretty sure the force of your love for her would always be overpowering, too.
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this was so dialogue heavy and im not sure i don't think it's awful and too depressing, so thanks for sticking around to the end if you did :)
not... opposed to a part 2 honestly. i have a little part written about alexia trying to deal with r's grief, while also finding it to be such a harsh reminder of her own experience. but i'm not sure what else it would be, or if anyone would want it anyway so. give me your thoughts :)
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Tru Fru part 3
Paige Bueckers x reader
Summary: You see Paige after the livestream happened and the two of you get closer.
(Semi-sexual content ahead.)
It had been a couple weeks since you had gone to Paige’s place and the livestream happened. Since then, it had been awkward between you and Paige, considering you didn’t really know each other and now you were trending on social media. Paige had texted you multiple times, apologizing and you had to reassure her that it was okay. At first, you didn’t see it as a big deal since no one really saw your face. However, you didn’t really understand just how popular she was until you started seeing edits starting with an intro of the video of you and Paige on her bed.
Paige and you really haven’t hung out since then, her being busy with basketball and traveling while you were trying to finish all your studies.
Currently, you were in your room trying to finish an assignment for one of your classes when a text notification popped up on your phone beside you. It was from Paige.
Yo can I come over?
Immediately texting back, you replied with a “sure” along with your dorm number. This is the first time she would ever be over at your dorm and you couldn’t help but feel nervous.
You took the time to clean up your room a little, putting away your homework and picking up any dishes or cups that were in your room.
A knock disrupted you. Walking over to the door, you let out a breath and opened it. “Hey,” Paige said, looking at you with her hands in her back pocket. She was wearing a UConn jacket and sweatpants.
“Hey,” you replied. “Come in.” You moved out of the way so that she could come in. Paige walked in and you shut the door.
“I know I keep apologizing but I’m so sorry for the whole livestream situation.”
You let out a small laugh and led Paige into your room. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s all good. It’s not like they know who I am. If anything, I’m sorry that it’s trending and you have to deal with this sort of stuff.”
Paige felt relieved in your response, as if weight was lifted off her shoulders. She sat down on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed animals near your pillow and fiddled with it. “It’s actually really refreshing to hear you say that.”
“Really?” You sat down beside her.
Paige looked at you, her clear-framed glasses sitting perfectly on the bridge of her nose. Her hair was in a low bun and she had on a beanie. All you wanted to do was lean over and kiss her, but you had to restrain yourself. “Yeah,” she said, “a lot of people don’t really think about how this kind of stuff affects us.”
You rubbed your hands on your thighs. “Well people should. I mean I get y’all are supposed to be like celebrities but you’re still human.”
Paige smiled at you, her eyes squinting in response. You thought the “eye-smile” she did was the cutest thing ever. It made you want to melt on the spot. Damn, you were starting to fall for her. “Thank you for saying that.”
It seemed like a long moment of just staring into each other’s eyes. When you and Paige had hung out in her room, moments like this had happened but this was different. Like the two of you were actually seeing each other for the first time. The sexual tension between the two of you had changed into something more emotional. And it intrigued you, making you want more. It made her want more too. However, it was a little overwhelming as this hasn’t happened to you in a while.
Paige’s eyes didn’t leave yours as she very slowly started to lean in, her face inching closer towards yours. A sudden bolt of fear shot through you and you turned your head away, making Paige look at you confused. You began saying, “so, how’s basketball been go-”
“Y/n.” Paige’s voice cut you off. Hearing your name coming from her mouth sent shivers down your spine.
You didn’t look at her. “Yeah?”
“Look at me,” she spoke softly, her fingers coming up to your chin as she gently turned your head allowing you to both make eye contact again. She let go of your chin, leaving behind cold marks that made you long to feel her touch. “I feel things for you.”
“What kind of things?” you asked.
She slowly laced her fingers with yours, smiling. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful and I like the way we talk to each other. And when the live happened, I felt so bad, you have no idea. All I wanted to do was apologize to you. I realized that I want to get to know you more and that I like you.”
“You like me?”
“If it isn’t obvious already.”
“I feel the same way. You have this energy that draws me to you.” You held onto her hand and you could feel her leaning closer to you.
There was a small moment of silence before she spoke, “can I,” she started, “can I try something and you won’t freak out?”
“Depends.”
Paige chuckled. “Just trust me.”
You didn’t say anything as you waited for Paige to do something. She took your silence as permission to lean forward, lifting one of her hands up to your cheek. As she pulled your face toward hers, you felt fear but also excitement, as you had wanted to kiss her for a while but never had the courage to.
Paige closed the distance between the two of you as it started off slow, the both of you moving in sync. Something ignited in Paige that made her pick up the pace, her hand dropping from your face to your waist and pulling you closer to her body. The sudden movement resulted in a small groan from you which made Paige’s heart beat faster and her mind start racing.
As the pace quickened, you grabbed her face, pulling yourself up from your seated position and straddled her lap. “Fuck,” Paige spoke against your lips, her hands running up and down your waist, sending shivers throughout your body as if her touch was electric.
“Paige,” you whispered softly into her and moved your mouth from hers to her neck, eliciting a small moan from her lips.
“Say,” she tried speaking in between moans. “Say my name again, princess.”
She could feel you smiling against her neck as you muttered, “Paige.”
“Holy fuck,” she breathes out. “Hearing you say my name is so hot.”
“Yeah?” You pull yourself away from her neck, taking a moment to admire the small marks you made along her neck.
Paige’s hands found themselves under your shirt, caressing the skin underneath. You melted into her touch. “I think this needs to be off,” she said, tugging at the fabric.
You pulled off her beanie that she was still wearing, throwing it to the side of your bed and then unzipping her jacket. She watched your every move, biting her lip as she admired you. “Only if this comes off.”
“Deal.” She let you take off her jacket which resulted in her pulling your shirt off, leaving her in a t-shirt and you in your bra. You both pulled each other closer at the same time, lips finding the other’s as you moaned into her mouth.
This time, she pulled away from you and found your neck. She sucked and softly bit down on your skin, leaving patches of red along your neck as she moved down towards your chest.
She flipped you onto your back, kissing up and down your chest and stomach, creating the softest sounds from you. “Paige, please.”
She looked up at you. “Please what, baby?”
You huffed, trying to find your voice. “I need you.”
“Where do you want me? Show me.” You grabbed her hands, guiding them down to your shorts, putting her fingers on the zipper. She unbuttoned and unzipped your shorts and pulled them off your body, taking in the sight before her. You suddenly felt self-conscious in her gaze but the way she let her hands slide up and down your thighs made you realize that you had nothing to worry about.
Paige slid her fingers up your inner thighs and found themselves at your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already, aren’t you?”
You shuddered at her touch, rolling your eyes back. “Paige, don’t make me wait.”
Paige smirked, moving her thumb in a slow circle, making you throw your head back. “Tell me how much you want me,” she said, her voice so deep it made the tension between you two thicker.
“I want-”
Paige’s phone went off, a call coming through. You sighed, frustration replacing that needy feeling you were embracing. Paige noticeably angry, took her fingers away from you and picked up her phone. “Fucking hell.”
You missed her touch and all you could think about was her fingers back on you, and the way she held your body. The way her hands fit your body. Paige answered the phone, “What do you need? I’m busy right now.”
“What do you mean we have practice right now?”
“Fuck, okay. Shit, why is he pissed?”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be there just give me a minute.”
She ended the phone and looked at you, an unreadable expression on her face. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. Coach is pissed for some reason and we had a practice that I forgot about so I have to go.”
You nodded, clearly frustrated while putting your shirt back on. “It’s fine. You’re all good.”
She moved toward you, kissing your forehead before grabbing her jacket. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
You looked up at her. “Yeah, you better.”
She chuckled, grabbing your chin gently and kissing you. “You’re doing something to me, Y/n.”
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Day in life ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚
How to help Gaza!!🇵🇸
• A/N ; i’m so sorry it took so long for me to write bc this was a request but i hope you guys like it!! Also i’m gonna try and post again today! And lastly if you guys want please send request i write for so many people so pleaseee!! love you! <3
warnings ; none! wlw!
• about ; what a day in life looks like with Emily engstler, but two ways!
• taglist ; @itsangelll
Okay so this can go one of two ways i think!
First way ;
You are asleep in bed as you hear Emily’s alarm go off, you roll over opening your eyes slowly, you look up and see Emily already on her phone and you lean up laying your head on her chest. “i gotta get up for practice mama” Emily says in that groggy morning voice,(oh lawd)as she runs her fingers through your hair massaging your scalp softly, you groan and roll over. She laughs softly and kiss your head, then get up and walk to the bathroom to shower, you get up and go make her breakfast for on the go and set that all out, and by the time your done she’s coming out of the shared bedroom dressed for practice with her book bag.
She walks over putting her hands on your hips and rubbing circles on them and leaning down to kiss your neck softly “thanks baby” Emily mumbles as she goes to grab her breakfast and get ready to go. You walk over to her “i love you i’ll see you later okay…” you mumble softly, still sleepy “i love you to sweet girl” Emily says and leans down kissing your lips a couple times then walking out.
Time skip ~
You ran some errands, went to the grocery store, cleaned the house and now your cooking some dinner for you and Emily, your of course making steak, green beans and potatoes. While you’re washing some dishes while dinner finishes up you hear the front door open and Emily’s backpack fall to the floor with a thud “i’m home baby!” Emily yells through the house “in the kitchen!” you yell back, you feel a pair of strong arms wrap around you waist and kiss the side of your head “i missed you so much baby” Emily says softly.
“mm i missed you to…i made your favorite” you say softly and turn in her arms leaning up to kiss her lips and pull away grabbing her plate.
“here you go baby” you say and kiss her softly then push her to the table and follow with your own plate, you both sit down and eat, Emily hold your hand rubbing her thumb over your knuckles as you two eat in silence. You both finish dinner and go to clean up the kitchen, emily wraps a arm around you neck pulling you to her lips kissing you softly,”hmm you wanna watch a movie and lay down” you say softly and emily nods walking to the bedroom, emily showers as you get into comfy clothes and get the movies and bed ready. She comes out and climbs into bed wrapping you up in her arms kissing your neck softly, you smile and snuggle into her neck kissing her jaw “goodnight em” you say softly “goodnight ma” emily says and fall asleep.
Now here is the second way!
You and Emily are both laying in bed, Emily’s arms wrapped around your waist, her face tucked into your neck and your legs both intertwined. Emily starts to wake up, nuzzling her nose against your neck just below your ear as she places soft kisses all over your neck and shoulder “baby wake up” Emily whisper softly as she continues to place soft kisses all over your neck trying to coax you out of your sleepy state. You groan softly as you turn over in her arms facing her, she leans down kissing your nose(she’s a big teddy bear in my mind)you sleepily smile and look up at her “good morning” you say softly still basking in the morning quietness and uncommon cuddles, you very rarely get this because of Emily’s work but you don’t mind cause you support her no matter what.
”wanna go make some breakfast” Emily says quietly as she cradled your cheek in her hand rubbing her thumb over your cheekbone, you nod and sit up rubbing your eyes. She gets out of bed and walks over grabbing your hand and walk out of the shared bedroom, you walk into the kitchen immediately going to the fridge grabbing some milk, butter, eggs, etc.. to make pancakes. You and Emily quickly make the breakfast which is pancakes, bacon and coffee, you guys go sit on the couch putting on a show to watch while you eat, and your guy’s two cats coming up on the couch to sit with you guys.
You guys finish breakfast, Emily grabs all of the plates and brings them to the kitchen and cleans them up and walks back over to you on the couch laying down with you, pulling you into her side. “what do you wanna do” you ask Emily softly moving your head to look up at her “i just wanna stay home baby” Emily says quietly as she leans down to kiss you, you nod and cuddle back into her side. you guys continue to do that the rest of the day…
#bambiwrites#emily engstler fic#emily engstler x y/n#emily engstler x reader#emily engstler#emily engstler imagine#fluff#imagine#wlw fiction#wlw post#wlw blog#wlw love#wlw#lesbian#lqbtq
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Book Club - Part 10
pairing: do you even need to know anymore 😂
summary: Checo needs a night out, which means you are babysitting
a/n: thanks for the request 🫶, sorry it took so long, I truly have been slammed with work.
masterlist
———————
“Thanks again,” Checo says when he stands at your Monaco apartment door with his four kids.
“No problem, we weren’t planning on going out anyway. Partying gets tiring,” you smile, stepping aside so the four can run in and find Lance.
Despite his retirement, Checo decided to take a family vacation to the Monaco GP, and when he was invited out with the drivers, you stepped in to babysit. How hard could it be?
“They’ve had their dinner, you just need to entertain them before bedtime, we will pick them up after breakfast. Good luck,” Checo says and starts walking towards the elevator.
“Good luck? What do you mean ‘good luck’? Checo? Checo!” you call after the Mexican as he smirks, watching you panic as the elevator doors close. You close and lock the front door, sighing in defeat. Lance is sitting on the floor with the four kids surrounding him, looking more than content.
“So, uh, do you like jazz?” you awkwardly ask, sitting on the couch. Lance stifles a laugh, looking at you with amused eyes.
“Jazz? I thought you would be better with kids that aren’t your siblings,” Lance says, amused at how uncomfortable you seem. To be fair, you were really looking forward to cuddling up in bed and watching a 2000s romcom with your husband after the race, it was all you had talked about last week.
“Lancie,” you frown, he reaches out to you and squeezes your hand, silently telling you he will take the lead. You slide onto the ground with them, trying your best to keep up with their games.
Lance is a natural. You’d probably be envious if it wasn’t giving you baby fever.
“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” Lance asks the four kids who are currently playing with you.
“Si!” Checo Junior says. They pile onto the loveseat beside your couch as Lance pulls out some blankets and pillows.
“I’ll get some snacks,” you say softly, padding out to the kitchen where you fill a bowl with premade popcorn. You would microwave some but you ate it as a midnight snack the other day. By the time you get back, Lance has them all cozy on the loveseat, a movie cued, and is waiting for you on the couch with a fuzzy blanket. You swear your heart explodes.
You can’t say that you pay too much attention to the movie, seeing as how you are asleep on Lance’s chest halfway through the movie. He looks at the similar scene beside the two of you, the only difference being that all four kids are asleep. Lance gently slides out from under you and carries the kids one by one to the bedroom you had excitedly put together when Checo called.
“Come on, baby, time for bed,” Lance gently wakes you up as he turns off the tv.
“Shoot, did you put them to bed by yourself, I would’ve helped. You go to bed, I’ll clean up,” you panic, looking around the living room. Lance already cleaned up.
“It’s okay, I know the race took more out of you than it did me. Let’s just go to bed,” Lance presses a kiss to your forehead.
“Okay,” you murmur, standing up, feeling everything stretch out. Lance turns the last few lights off before picking you up and carrying you to bed. You look like a koala as you hold him, chest to chest, your head on his shoulder. After getting ready for bed, it doesn’t take you long to fall asleep.
Your alarm wakes you and Lance up early. Normally this would be for your morning run, but there are four kids who are currently relying on you.
“Come hop in the shower with me,” Lance grabs your hand as you stand in front of your closet.
“Lance, there are kids in the next room over,” you blush looking at the door.
“You won’t be saying that when we have kids of our own, plus, it’s just a quick shower. Get your mind out of the gutter,” he teases you and you shake your head.
“I’m going to train after Checo comes and picks them up, you go shower,” you tell him, finding the hoodie of his that you like to steal.
While Lance showers, you make a pot of coffee and sit out on your balcony, overlooking the ocean. As you sip your coffee, you don’t realize Lance is in the kitchen starting breakfast.
You freeze in the doorway, staring at your shirtless husband, whose sweatpants rest low on his hips.
“Hungry?” Lance asks, waving at the food already done.
“No, well yes, but I’m happy with my girl breakfast,” your eyes rake his body. Lance blushes and pulls a t-shirt on, you drool as his muscles flex. “Why’d you do that?” you pout as your girl breakfast was covered up.
“There will be plenty of time to stare once our charges are fed and taken back by their parents, why don’t you go wake them up?” Lance chuckles, amused at your irritation. He’s just glad he still does it for you all these years later. A few minutes later you rejoin him in the kitchen, four sets of little feet following you.
“Up you go,” you lift each kid into their seat at the table. As you set out place settings, Lance brings over the food. He notices how careful you are around them, and for a moment he let’s himself imagine that it is you with your future kids. Maybe he will have a copycat son that has your personality, or a daughter that takes the best from both of you and is a perfect blend, or maybe the kid will look exactly like you but will be a little awkward like he is.
Breakfast goes smoothly, and Checo arrives earlier than expected.
“They weren’t too much trouble, were they?” He asks Lance as you help the kids with their little bags.
“Not at all, perfect angels,” Lance tells Checo, his eyes not leaving you.
“I’ll see you, or I guess hear you, at the next meeting,” you hug the Mexican ex-driver goodbye.
“So, wanna start practicing?” Lance wiggles his eyebrows, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as he makes his way to the bedroom.
“Lance!”
#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 grid#f1 grid x reader#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll#checo perez#sergio perez#sergio checo perez#book club#baby fever
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Your blog is wonderful, thank you for putting so much effort into compiling all the varied information out there on dungeon meshi into one place! You're amazing for that.
I'm wondering if you happen to know if there's ever been a confirmed reason why the goat demon took Mithrun's eye and ears (or if not, if you have any theories)? I know the adventurer's bible comic where Mithrun implied it had something to do with his grudge towards his brother (perhaps because he valued them as indicators of his 'heritage'?), but I've never been able to figure out what the demon got out of it. The only other time it did anything similar was with Laios's curse, and that was after he effectively killed it. Does it make a habit out of just generally ruining the day of anyone who survives an encounter with it, or is there a better reason why it might act so maliciously when it supposedly only wishes to consume desires? The only other thought I had was that it may have been trying to generate new desires since it needed to be stronger, that seems perhaps too far into the realm of wild speculation...
Sorry for the long ask! I've evidently been thinking myself in circles with this. And no pressure to respond to this at all!
The eye thing to me seemed more like the Demon getting a grip on him and not caring what was happening to o Mithrun
Here's the official translation vs EHScans from when he talks about his eyes an ears (Adventurer's Bible)
I think it is about his pride about how he had the features of his noble house differently from his brother, even tho he was the bastard.
Mithrun's desire were linked to his inferiority complex so I guess those were physical consequences of what the demon ate from him. besides the image of the eye and ear there's a "Yum/Tasty" so he definitely did it cause he wanted to eat it and not for revenge.
My theory is that he took it cause it was so intrinsically linked to his desire to be accepted/loved.
Mithrun was only accepted even tho he was a bastard because he had those traits, if he looked like his brother instead I bet he would be treated even worse than his brother was. And I'm pretty sure he knows that so his desires would be linked to those features and the demon ate it along with the rest? Perhaps the complex feelings attached to that were too tasty and he had to have a snack.
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security blanket
#girl get those wraps on your arm is naked#arcane#vi arcane#arcane fanart#nudity#i was hoping to draw more than one sketch today BUT ITS PROGRESS so im happy#it's been so long since ive drawn anything#vi i missed you im so sorry#my biggest shame rn is that i totally forgot how to draw her so this took me like 2 hours#im also very out of practice w anatomy so maybe dont look too hard#just sketching#ANYWAY vi definitely looks beefier in the teaser right?#we love to see it#(updating bc i put the wrong watermark/signature thing oops)
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Inspired by this TikTok
I wrote this instead of everything else I should be working on, enjoy! 😂
Rating: G | WC: 2494 | AO3
Eddie took a deep breath, preparing himself mentally for the night ahead as he walked up the street towards the place he was supposed to meet his blind date.
He couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this, but it wasn’t like he was having any luck finding love on his own.
After several failed long-term relationships with fuckboys that weren’t worth his time and heartache, who ran the second things got real, he joined the apps—quickly realizing that most of the guys he found on there were only looking for sex. Which was fun and all, but Eddie wanted more.
He was looking for romance, a spark, someone he could see spending his life with, who was also looking for a partner. Someone who wasn’t allergic to commitment.
So, he’d quit the apps.
And when Chrissy told him she had a guy she wanted him to meet he figured, fuck it, he’d tried everything else.
Steve Harrington.
He was a friend of Robin’s, Chrissy’s new girlfriend who Eddie hadn’t had the chance to meet yet, but apparently the three of them had gotten together last weekend, and now Chrissy was convinced the man and Eddie were perfect for each other.
“On the surface it’s giving opposites attract,” she’d said, “but under the carefully styled hair and button down shirts, Steve is not at all what you’d expect. He’s kind, funny, a little weird, and way different than the guys you usually go for—but in the best way. Just give it a chance. I promise at the very least you’ll have a good time and maybe make a friend.”
Eddie wasn’t so sure that’d be the case, but he was here, willing to give it a go, and he had a trick up his sleeve. A little idea he’d stolen from a TikTok video that had, so far, a 100% success rate for exposing duds.
He reached his destination and pushed open the door, entering the warm dimly lit restaurant, and before he’d even reached the hostess stand noticed a man rising from his seat, smiling and waving—waving at him.
And oh, oh Chrissy had better count her days because Eddie was going to fucking kill her. Steve, assuming this was the guy, was quite literally the hottest man he’d ever seen in real life.
She couldn't warn a guy?
Eddie raised his hand, absently returning the wave as he continued to stare a little dumbstruck at his date.
Get it together, Munson.
Mercifully, Eddie was able to snap out of it enough to put one foot in front of the other again and make his way over to their booth.
There was an awkward moment where Steve couldn’t seem to make up his mind between shaking Eddie’s hand, or hugging him in greeting.
Honestly Eddie wasn’t sure of the protocol either since it was his first blind date. He supposed this was to be expected. Not only were they about to embark upon the supremely awkward adventure that was every first date ever, but they were also meeting for the very first time having never seen or spoken to each other before.
In the end it became one of those half-and-half bro hugs with the little pat on the back, before they took their seats opposite one another.
Steve was the first to break the silence. “It’s good to meet you, Chrissy told me a lot about you.”
“Wish I could say the same.” Eddie muttered under his breath.
“Oh, um.”
“Sorry, it’s—I didn’t mean,” Eddie shook his head at himself. “Ignore me.”
“No, I'm sorry.” Steve raked a hand over his face. “It’s weird right? This is weird. I tried to tell Robin—I mean, who even goes on blind dates anymore!”
It surprised a laugh out of Eddie that he couldn’t have held back if he tried. He quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late.
Great job, Munson, laugh at the guy—great way to make a first impression.
But then Steve was cracking a little lopsided smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever-so-slightly with it. He didn’t seem offended, or mad.
Fuck.
He wasn’t just dangerously hot, he was cute too.
Eddie tugged lightly on his shirt collar, and cleared his throat. “It’s a little weird, sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad.”
Their server chose that moment to arrive and introduce herself, taking their drink order—some local craft beer Eddie had never heard of for Steve, a Jack and coke for himself—and Eddie used the temporary distraction to try and regain some composure. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already hoping this would go somewhere, that Steve would be different from all the others.
But when the server had gone and it was just the two of them again, Steve opened his mouth and Eddie instantly flashed back to every bad first date he’d been on.
“So, what’s your favorite—”
Steve hadn’t even finished asking his first question before Eddie was interrupting, raising a hand to tick off each response on his fingers as he went.
“Black, metal, D&D, the 1999 cinematic masterpiece The Mummy starring our lord and savior Brendan Fraser, The Silmarillion, cheeseburgers, Halloween, aaaaand—a dog.”
Steve blinked at him. “...What?”
“My favorite color, genre of music, hobby, movie, book, food, holiday, and of course the classic—if I could be any animal, what animal would I be and why?”
Eddie let his hand fall to the table with a soft thud. “Dog—hands down. And I know I look more like someone who’d say black cat or something like that, but I enjoy attention and physical affection far too much to be an aloof feline. Shaggy lovable mutt seems way more my speed.”
By the end of his speech, Steve was grinning from ear to ear, nodding in understanding.
Eddie gave half a shrug, blushing a bit under the full force of Steve’s dazzling smile. “Thought I'd save us some time and speed-run the same old, same old.”
A moment later their drinks arrived and they both sat up a little straighter reflexively as the server set each glass down on cocktail napkins in front of them before scurrying off.
They’d been leaning in towards each other without even realizing, it seemed. It was Steve’s turn to blush now, Eddie noted with delight as he raised his glass to his lips, grateful to have something to do with his hands.
“I take it you’ve been on a lot of first dates?” Steve asked, taking a long sip from his own drink.
“A few.” Eddie said, tilting his cup to swirl the ice around. “You?”
Steve made a waffling motion with his head. “A few.”
Eddie took another sizable swig from his glass, focusing for a moment on the burn of the whiskey and the tingle of soda bubbles in his throat as he swallowed, and carefully set his cup down on the table between them. It was almost empty already—should have asked for a double.
“Okay, my turn, “ he said.
Steve raised an eyebrow. “You wanna know my favorite color?”
“No, there’ll be plenty of time to find that out later.”
“Presumptuous of you.”
Eddie hummed noncommittally. “More… hopeful.”
Steve let out a breathy laugh. “Alright, what do you want to know?”
Here goes nothing—
“What would you do if we moved in together and I started seeing ghosts and told you that our house was haunted?”
Steve tilted his head to the side, giving Eddie that soft crooked smile again, and damn if it wasn’t becoming one of Eddie’s favorite things. Can you be obsessed with something you’ve only seen twice?
Steve was quiet for a long moment, nearly draining his beer as he thought it over, but eventually set his own drink down beside Eddie’s and looked him dead in the eye. “Is it a nice ghost or a scary ghost? Are we talking banging on walls and rearranging furniture at 3am? Or a cold yet comforting presence in the corner.”
Eddie put on a show of thinking about it, rubbing his chin and staring off into space as he tried desperately to contain his excitement. He’d never had the question go over this well before.
Then their server was back, asking if they wanted another round—yes, of course—and if they were ready to order. They hadn’t even cracked open their menus yet, too distracted with talking.
“Do you know what you want?” Steve asked him.
Eddie swallowed hard.
You.
“I-I’m not picky. Order for me? Chrissy said you come here a lot so I’m sure you know what’s good.”
Without hesitation Steve ordered them a burger each, and a plate of some sort of fancy fries to share, apparently they had the best fries.
It hadn’t been another test, honest. Eddie really didn’t care what he ate, this was already turning out to be his best date in far too long—and It could have been a coincidence, maybe Steve ordered burgers there all the time, but Eddie chose to believe it meant Steve had been listening. Test or not, he’d passed with flying colors.
When they were alone again Eddie smoothed his hands along the table, drawing invisible patterns with his fingers and finally answered Steve’s question.
“Let’s go with scary ghost, but remember you have no proof, you haven't seen it with your own eyes, just my word.”
Steve waved him off as if that was inconsequential, upending his glass to get the last dregs of the beer, and wiping his lips on the back of his hand.
“Okay, well then it depends on how hands on you want to be. We could consult WitchTok, try and cleanse the house ourselves, ask the spirit to leave, that kinda thing. Or maybe find a priest who’d be willing to help us out? That might be a little more difficult since the church isn’t usually our biggest fans, but I could deal with a little homophobia to make sure you were happy and comfortable in our home.”
Eddie’s stomach flipped, heart beginning to race. He wasn’t surprised exactly, Steve had been blowing past his expectations at every turn already, but there was no more perfect answer to his admittedly insane first date question.
So naturally, he had to push.
“What if I wanted to move?”
Steve shrugged. “Then we’d move.”
Eddie stared at him incredulously. Steve said it like it was nothing, like uprooting his entire life for some crazy shit was akin to changing his socks. This was all hypothetical, Eddie knew that, and Steve could just be telling him what he wanted to hear, but Eddie had a feeling he was telling the absolute truth
“But we’d be out, at minimum, a month’s rent and security deposit, and what if the landlord won’t let us out of the lease?!” Eddie threw his hands up, suddenly taking his own game much too seriously. “Or godforbid we’d bought the place, then we’d have to sell it and all our money would be tied up in it, and—”
Steve reached out and took Eddie’s hands with his own, gently stroking his thumbs along the back of them. “Baby—baby it’s okay. No amount of money would be worth you feeling unsafe.”
And Eddie was simply going to pass away, because what the fuck—how was this man so perfect?
“Why—how are you single?”
Steve flashed a sad, self deprecating smile. “I’ve been told I can be a little… intense.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“Well, historically speaking…”
Eddie leaned over the table, pressing a kiss to the back of Steve’s hand. “I happen to like intense.”
Steve sucked in a breath, cheeks flushing again with the most glorious shade of pink. “Good to know.”
They stayed hand in hand talking for a long time, taking turns asking each other the most random questions they could think of.
“Favorite episode of The Twilight Zone?” Eddie asked.
“Oh, easy. I don’t know the name of it but it’s the one where the kid is lost and her parents can hear her in the house panicking, but they can’t see her?”
Eddie nodded his approval. “Little Girl Lost, good choice.” God he was falling more in love by the second.
“Favorite Abba song.” Steve countered.
Eddie grinned. “How do you know I even have one? Mean scary metalhead like me.”
Steve rolled his eyes, and shot him a look that clearly stated he found Eddie neither mean or scary. “Everybody likes Abba.”
“Well played.” Eddie bit at his bottom lip. He felt like a teenager with his first crush all over again. “Fine—while Dancing Queen holds a special place in my heart, and maybe this makes me a gay cliche, but Gimme, Gimme, Gimme fucking slaps.”
It went on and on like that until eventually their food arrived, forcing them to separate. They still spoke as they finished their meal, and settled their tab, but Eddie missed the warmth of Steve’s hand in his already.
He suddenly understood why some couples chose to sit together on the same side of a booth. He’d happily look like a dork right now to have the opportunity to be pressed up against Steve’s side, to be able to slide a hand along his thigh and maybe—
“Eddie?”
Steve’s slightly raised voice found him in his daydream, snapping him out of it abruptly.
“Wha..?”
“Did I lose you there for a second?” Steve asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips.
Eddie rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, sorry, um—you were saying?”
“I said, I'm having a really good time, and I know we already paid the bill but I really don’t want this night to end, so—” Steve slid out of his seat and moved to stand in front of him, holding a hand out—which Eddie took immediately, of course, and let Steve pull him to his feet.
“I was wondering if you’d want to take this back to my apartment? Y’know, so we can plan a second date?” He finished with a smirk.
Jesus Christ.
Warmth shot through Eddie’s body at the implications but he found his heart skipping a beat too, because as much as Steve was teasing, Eddie knew somehow that he meant it about the second date.
He couldn’t believe his luck, Steve was everything Chrissy had made him out to be, and so much more. He was going to send her the biggest bouquet of flowers tomorrow, and maybe an edible arrangement. Were those still a thing?
Eddie leaned in, letting his lips brush along the shell of Steve’s ear as he spoke. “It’s not haunted, is it?”
Steve shivered, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling their bodies flush. “No, but if you’re interested I can think of a few other ways to make you scream.”
Thanks as always to the lovely @penny00dreadful for everything😘😘😘
Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog
@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari
#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#blind date#modern au#i wrote this in just over 24 hours#do i have wips i should have been working on?#asolutely i do#but this was SO much fun#I gotta write fluff more often#💜💜💜
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Who is That?: Alpine
Summary: Y/N goes back to work, and comes across a curious creature on her way home.
Bucky Masterlist | Series Masterlist
"Thank you for today, Y/N," her manager smiled, as Y/N packed up the last of her belongings.
"That's alright," Y/N replied, setting her bag on her shoulder.
Just as her manager was going to say something else, the phone started to ring in its cradle. "I'll see you Thursday," her manager waved and picked up the phone.
Y/N left the shop and made her way down the street. She had always been a fast walker (thanks to the height of Bucky, she always had to run to catch him up). She weaved her way in and out of pedestrians.
Considering she was small as well, it also made it easier to avoid people and their bags.
As she stood at the crossing, waiting for the signal to cross. She spotted a little girl standing next to her, staring up at her with large eyes. "Hello."
The little girl's mother looked downtown her daughter then at Y/N. "I'm sorry, it's not often she stares at people like this."
Y/N shakes her head. "No, she's OK. There must be something about me she is curious about," she tells her, making sure she had her balance and crouched down in front of the little girl. "Are you alright?"
All of a sudden, the little girl had gone very shiny as she grabbed a hold of her mother's coat and looked down at her shoes.
The two women chuckled as Y/N stood back up.
"What's that?" The little girl asked, pointing at the engagement ring.
"Thats my engagement ring," Y/N told the little girl. "My husband gave me this, and he told me he wants to spend the rest of his life with me."
"The rest of your life with one person?" The little girl looked up at her.
Y/N nodded. "Yeah, and I told him I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and we got married."
Y/N was nearly home, as it had just started raining, when the sounds of meowing stopped her in her tracks.
She looked around and caught sight of a box moving in a nearby alleyway. "What on Earth?" She made her way down the alleyway to the upturned box and revealed a very young cat.
She didn't know what kind of despicable person would drop a cat so young to find for itself in the freezing cold rain. She could only hope it hadn't been sitting outside all that long, as its fur was nearly pristine white, but it was so skinny.
"Hello," she cooed, crouching down, holding her hand out to the kitten. The creature took a few cautious steps forward, taking many sniffs of Y/N's fingers. The cat must have thought she was trustworthy enough and pushed her head underneath Y/N's fingers.
Y/N cooed over the little kitten, making a fuss over the cat before eventually being able to scoop her up into her arms. The kitten made a little bit of a protest, only to be soothed by cuddles.
"Right," she says to the kitten. "Let's go home."
Usually, Bucky would be waiting for her in their apartment, but he had been pulled away for an important mission with Sam and wouldn't be come until the early hours of the morning.
Well, that is what she was expecting.
She was in the middle of giving the kitten a soap bath when a key was put into the lock, and the door opened.
"Doll?" Bucky called, not seeing his wife sat on the sofa watching her TV shows. "Doll, where are you?"
"James?" Y/N looked over her shoulder to where she could see her husband setting his heavy gear down. She looked between her husband and the kitten and then back at Bucky. "What are you doing home, I thought you wouldn't get back until the early hours."
Bucky walked around the corner and into the kitchen and finally saw what his wife was doing. "Doll?" She replied with a hum. "What is that?"
"What's what?" She sometimes played dumb, just to wind him up a little.
"Don't play this game with me, doll," Bucky walked over to her, so he was nearly plastered to her side. He lifted a vibranium finger. "This creature in your hands."
She stopped her scrubbing and looked down at the kitten. "I found her."
"You found her?"
"Mmhm."
Bucky raised an eyebrow at his wife. "And where did you find this cat?"
Y/N turned her head to look at him. "In a cardboard box, in an alleyway, block from here."
Bucky looked from his wife to the young cat in her hands and then back at his wife again. "Are you sure this isn't someone's pet?" In response to this, Y/N rinsed off the soap from the kitten and lifted her to show Bucky. Despite the kitten's white coat, the poor thing was practically skin and bones. "Bloody hell," this was something he had picked up from the war.
"We have to keep her, James."
Bucky sighed looking between his wife and the cat. He could see by the look in his wife's eyes and the way the cat is currently licking her hand - they had already bonded, and there was no separating them.
"Alright, doll. I'll go get some food and some dishes for..." he trailed off, waiting for his wife to fill in the gap for the kitten's name.
"Why would you guess I have..." she was now the one to trail off as Bucky was looking at her expectantly. "Alpine."
Bucky blinked a few times. "After the Alpine Ridge, I fell from?"
"No! First of all, I didn't not know that is where you fell. And secondly, the box I found her had a silhouette of a mountain range on it, and I remembered Steve talking about a mission you once went to during the war. He never told me it was the one you fell from."
Bucky nodded. "OK, doll. I shall go get Miss Alpine some wet food, immediately," he presses a kiss to her cheek and makes his way to leave their apartment. "And what have I told you about calling me James?"
"I shall call you James as much as you call me doll."
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#james buchanan barnes#alpine the cat#of course i had to write a fic where they get alpine#i think alpine the cat is my favourite fictional animal
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GIRL- ok first of all hello. So I was thinking of a fan fiction about Miguel x reader but Miguel is your parents’ close friend and you are at a ceremony all together after many years and he doesn’t take his eyes off of reader, so then they get alone and he fcks reader hard (not sure if you have already written one like this sorry if I didn’t see it) ❤️❤️
A/N-Im sorry it took me nearly a year to finish this babes
You and Miguel? You really didn't know, Miguel was only known by you because of your mother and father who favored him. It's funny actually, because they would always tell Miguel to watch out anytime he was near you. You were a wild child, always getting into something, and VERY MUCH petty. One time, Miguel had stepped on your precious (pet's name) paw, and you proceeded to make him think he was going insane the next three days by staying in his room and hiding whenever he checked.
He found out through you yourself, since you walked up to him one day with a sly grin. "How do you like my ghost act?" Were the words that made him connect the dots. Its safe to say he's over it, but he still checks his closet anytime he's going to bed because of it. You scarred the man for life. You haven't seen the man in years after your parents decided to move you to a place a couple cities away.
Your parent's fiftieth anniversary was approaching, and your aunts had planned a surprise party for when they got back, As you were helping prepare, you heard a familiar voice call your name. "Y/n?" Miguel said, his eyes wide in recognition. He hadn't seen you in a while, suddenly feeling his longing for you starting to sink back into his system as his heart raced upon seeing you again. So close to fuck touch but not yet, he'd have to control himself until the right moment.
You turned around and smiled, you had missed your favorite playmate. "Miguel!" You squealed, pouncing on the taller being. The man caught you and chuckled, putting you down. "Long time no see." He said, a joyous expression being seen in his eyes, even if his face said otherwise. "It has been! Did you miss me?" You questioned, leaning forward. Miguel caught sight of your cleavage from that specific motion, and started to blush.
He cleared his throat and nodded. "I missed some of you, not your troublemaking ways." You rolled your eyes and shoved a box into his hands. "Well, in that case, You can go help in the house with the decorations, Miguel." You huffed, pretending to be mad as you kept setting up the tables. Miguel chuckled, seeing right through your façade, and went inside to talk with your uncle on what to do with the box of decorations he had.
Soon, your parents came back. When they entered the house, everybody jumped out and shot them with hand held confetti cannons, "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!" Everybody yelled enthusiastically, their smiles lighting up the room as your parents laughed and thanked everyone. Your cousins ushered your parents outside, everyone following behind them to get the party started.
While everyone else was dancing, Miguel was sitting on the sidelines, watching you while taking occasional sips of his drink. Every movement you made was memorizing to him, his eyes unable to leave your swaying form. After a bit, You got tired and went inside. You decides to stay in your room for a bit, since the dancing portion had stopped and everyone started fixing plates for themselves and others to eat.
Miguel had followed you inside, his head buzzing with thoughts about you. Unknowing to his intentions, you invited him into your room, sitting on your bed and getting comfortable as you turned the TV on. It wasn't long before he sat on the bed too, his eyes never fully leaving your form.
The room started to feel warm when you noticed his gaze on you, his eyes basically eating away at your being and undressing you before himself. You fanned yourself, trying to cool down your heating face. "Its a bit warm in here isn't it," You gently giggled, turning to Miguel. The larger man groaned and grabbed you, tugging you onto his lap before pressing his lips against your own.
If you were warm before, you were burning up now; Everything was so hot, his tongue inside your mouth as he pushed you down, his hands on your skin as he tugged your dress off and fondled your breasts, the air around him as his own clothes joined your dress on the floor. It was all so fuzzy, your brain couldn't even properly process what was happening until Miguel parted from your lips and made his way between your legs, leaving a kiss every inch he descended.
"Miguel not there.." You whined, tugging at his hair as he began to lap at your core, his tongue diving between your folds to bring your arousal into his mouth. You could tell he was good with his mouth just by the way we worked his tongue inside you all while using his lips to suck on your puffy clit. You felt a odd feeling, a tightening in your lower stomach. "M-Miguel..-" You stammered, trying to warn him but it was all in vain. You're cumming on his face before you know it, your head hitting your headboard with a thud as the pleasure washes over you in waves.
Miguel lifted his face to look at her before pressing another kiss to your face, you liquids still o his tongue. He had to prep you, he knew he was bigger than average and that you'd need something to help with the stretch. He had some lube in his bag, which was also on the floor, so he retrieved it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he poured some on your throbbing cunt, making sure his hand was coated as well before sinking a finger into your heat.
He soon sunk a second finger into you, working you open slowly but surely. When he was able to get a fourth finger into you, he was satisfied with his work. He stroked his cock a few times, preparing it for what's to come. He slowly pushes his tip into your entrance, groaning as he he went deeper inch by devastatingly delicious inch. "Oh Mi Alma.." He whispered in your ear when he bottomed out in you, staying still to let you adjust to his girth.
He waited for a sign from you, anything to let him know that you're ready. It wasn't long before he got the green light from you, immediately pulling out until the tip was the only thing inside and slamming into you. It felt so good to have you under him, to mark up and grab onto your soft skin as he ravaged you. He kept biting you on whatever he could reach while thrusting into your deepest parts. Your shoulders, throat, and breasts were all bitten and sore from his relentless attack on them.
He picked up the pace, ramming into you with such force you could barely breathe. He wanted you to cum, he wanted you to tighten around him and milk his cock for every drop he could give you. His hips moved roughly against yours, the sound of skin against skin getting louder as time passed. The feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin, his cock drilling into your abused cunt, his hands squeezing your hips was all too much for you.
Your legs shook as another orgasm crashed onto you, your hands grabbing at the sheets as a cry fell from your lips. Miguel was soon after, not lasting too long when he was getting squeezed by you. "Fuck.." He mumbled, gently pulling out and watching as his cum seeped from your hole. He had half a mind to plug you up again, but hearing a small whimper from you quickly snapped him out of it. He got up and dampened a rag from your bathroom, cleaning you up. When he finished his aftercare, he kissed your forehead, watching you sleep. "Te amo, alborotadora." He said before falling asleep with you in his arms.
#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel x y/n#atsv miguel#miguel spiderman#miguel o hara#spiderman 2099#miguel 2099#across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099 spiderverse#spider man 2099#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel ohara#ohara smut#fuck them up miguel#so long for what#miguel smut#miguel atsv#astv miguel#miguel x you#miguel ohara aftercare
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Nightwing is Not The Normal One!! (Click for clarity)
Of course, Wally still helped Dick plan a date so he could finally ask out Dan. (Image descriptions are below, as well as what Wally sent to Dan in his text messages)
Inspired by this post of mine
[Image description: Panel 1 has Wally sitting down at a dining table, presumably at a restaurant and Dick just arrived and is sitting down. The two are smiling and chatting.
Wally: Dick! It’s great to see you!
Dick: You too, Wally! It’s been so long!
W: Right? How’ve you been?
Panel 2 has a close up of Dick’s smiling face.
D: Remember Wraith? (Wraith is Dan’s “hero” name that I made up) We’ve been hanging out more and… I think I’m going to ask him out!
Panel 3 has Wally’s awkward, but smiling face as Dick rambles in the background.
D: He’s just so cute and handsome and gorgeous like I really don’t know how Dr and Dr Fenton created such a perfect being like omg wow
Panel 4 continues with Wally’s face but now he’s frowning and looking even more awkward as Dick rambles.
D: And all of his siblings are so adorable and cute too. And do you see his muscles? Like awooga amirite he’s so attractive that it’s killing me bark bark woof woof
Panel 5 now has Wally who has lost all hope in having a normal conversation with Dick, who continues rambling.
D: I bet he’d be so cute in bed. I took pictures of him when he was sleeping and found his address lol it was too easy I didn’t even try like omg it was so easy
Panel 6 has Wally freaked out and texting Dan underneath the table. He stays silent while Dick is now visibly gushing with hearts around him.
D: Did you know that his measurements are 48-35-44? He has an hourglass figure! I found out by looking through the cameras I put in his room. Man, I can’t wait to—
W: *thinking* HOW DID I FORGET THAT HE WAS BATMAN’S FIRST KID??? THEY’RE ALL INSANE!! ]
Wally’s text messages with Dan:
[Image description: the contact name is “do not put dick in”
Wally: *with bad spelling* bro did anyone tell you that Dick is crazy yet
Dan: … sorry?
Wally: *with more bad spelling* Dick has your bwh (bust/waist/hips) numbers
Wally: He’s crazy
Dan: I’ve been knowing 🙄]
#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp#dark danny#dan fenton#dan phantom#dick grayson#dick x dan#wally west#yes I do think of myself as the funniest person alive /j#despite how wally is freaking out he is still a dick supporter and will be a good wingman#first failures ship#dick is not the normal one in the family#wally is using the speed force to text dan which is why his handwriting is like That
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Please, please, please, for hc Tuesday, Noah dating a reader that is always cold, so he’s always hugging her and warming up her hands in between hissss. Love your work!!! <3
@thescarlettvvitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka @Karenfranco @its-inourblood @amelia-acero @xxkittenkissesxx @cncohshit @xserena-13 @collidewiththesavannah
I am so incredibly sorry that this took me so long to post, but I hope the wait was worth it!
"Angel, you're shivering," Noah chuckled and covered you with a blanket.
You thanked him with a smile while snuggling closer to him on the couch, hoping his body head would warm you up.
You were already wearing a pair of socks, joggers, a long sleeve, and a hoodie over that. Even with the blanket, you still felt a chill to your bones.
"What the hell is the air set to?" You wondered with chattering teeth.
Your human heater of a boyfriend laughed louder now and wrapped an arm around you, giving you a soft kiss to your lips.
"It's set to 66. I almost got into it with Michael earlier because he tried to put it to 72. Told him he was fucking crazy," Noah shook his head while unpausing the movie the two of you had been watching.
All you could do was blink at him, dumbfounded that he thought Michael was the crazy one.
Noah could feel your gaze on the side of his face so he glanced down at you. "What?"
"It's the middle of fall and you have the air conditioning set to 66 degrees. You're the one that's fucking crazy."
Your ice cold hands slinked up underneath his shirt, grabbing a hold of his soft stomach causing him to cry out with the sudden chill.
#tina talks#noah sebastian#bad omens#the fallen nightmare headcannons#bad omens headcannons#noah sebastian headcannons
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all the ways — o.sr
mini series ⭑.ᐟ
synopsis⭑.ᐟ you pick up your younger brother, anton, at kindergarten once and now the cute teacher thinks you're anton's mother.
word count⭑.ᐟ 2.5k+
a/n; i know unruly child anton seems unrealistic but this is an au !! i think unruly child anton is funnyy
✩🎧⭑.ᐟ [ all the ways — wet ]
“oh, you must be anton’s mom,” the kind looking man in front of you smiled while your younger brother snickered from behind him.
mom?
you glared at anton, hiding behind his teacher as he played with his toys. you cleared your throat, straightening up as you smiled back at the guy, “um, is that what anton told you?” he looked confused for a bit, glancing between you and anton. “a-are you not? you two look alike, i just assumed,” he scratched his head, shyly smiling at you.
”taro! my mom’s picking me up! bye bye!” some kid shouted loudly, waving his arms at the guy next to you. “take care, sungchan!” he waved back, smiling just as widely. you couldn’t help but think that being a kindergarten teacher suited him so much, just by looking at his adorable smile and kind features.
“you let them call you by your nickname?” you asked curiously and he just laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “some of the kids stumble over my name, so i just let them call me taro,” he smiles at you, inviting you inside the classroom. you take a seat by one of the small chairs, noticing how anton was trudging along.
“oh, i’m shotaro by the way.” you smile at him, nodding. “i’m y/n, anton’s sister.” shotaro stared at you for a bit, as if he was relieved that you weren’t married or secretly anton’s step-mom. you tilt your head slightly and he shakes his head, plastering his usual smile as he looked at you.
shotaro took out some papers, “so about anton,” you peek at the papers he showed you— it was filled with undecipherable letters in shapes that you just assumed were korean. “is this… my brother’s handwriting?” your tone audibly dropped, in complete disbelief that your brother cannot write for shit.
”well, they’re not that bad if you know what to look for,” shotaro mumbled, staring at the doodles anton made on the paper. anton also looks at the papers, exclaiming as he pointed at one of the writings on the top part, “this spells my name!” you look at where he was pointing, it wasn’t even a word. “toni, if i call you that, chairs in this classroom might start floating.” anton frowns at you, still insisting on his spelling, “an! ton!”
”toni, you have a korean name,” you mumbled, pulling him in to calm him down. shotaro couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange. you look at him apologetically, somewhat embarrassed that anton was acting up like this. he was usually a well-natured kid, well, unless it was with you.
”i’m so sorry about my brother, he’s a bit… annoying, to put it simply,” you let out a huff when anton playfully pulled on your arm. shotaro laughs, shaking his head, “it’s alright, i understand.” his gaze lingers towards you for a bit too long that you begin to blush. you clear your throat, making shotaro fiddle with the papers he was holding, ears visibly red.
shotaro looks back up at you, “so, um, i was thinking,” he glances over at anton, “since anton’s still a bit young, tutoring him about spelling would be beneficial as he grows up. a few of the kids have this problem too, but anton’s case is… a bit peculiar.” you close your eyes in embarrassment, wanting to just disappear in this moment.
you let out a sigh, “is there something we need to sign-up for? extra classes maybe?” shotaro shakes his head, smiling at you, “no, nothing like that! actually, i’m bringing this up to you because anton asked me to personally teach him.”
you tilt your head, “anton did?” he laughs a little, scratching his neck, “well, he did promise he was going to bring his mom too, though you ended up coming instead. if this decision is too much for you to make alone, i can wait. although you’re also free to decline, it’s completely up to you.” you blinked at him, shotaro was a bit too kind.
”did anton bully you into this?” you whispered, frowning in concern. shotaro shakes his hands around, “no, no! i’ve just seen how enthusiastic he was to learn when we had a spelling class for the first time last week.” you ponder for a bit, looking at your unruly younger brother. anton was never that interested in learning new things but if shotaro said that he was, then who were you to take this away from him?
you nodded, smiling at shotaro, “if my brother really wants to, then i don’t think it’d be too bad.” anton jumped up and down, hitting your thighs playfully. you clench your jaw, wanting to keep your composure in front of the cute kindergarten teacher.
shotaro smiled back, seemingly just as excited as anton was, “about the arrangement, would it be more comfortable to have them here until, let’s say, five in the afternoon? if not, i also don’t mind coming over to teach him.”
”house! house!” anton chanted annoyingly, jumping up in between you and shotaro as he shook your wrists. you glare at him, still maintaining your smile, “well, if anton wants it at home. also, i think it’d be safer that way since anton walks home alone.” shotaro nods at this, chuckling as anton settled down, “then, would it be alright if we start next week?”
”sure!” you smiled at shotaro.
one thing you forgot to mention was that you shared the same room as anton, so you couldn’t even describe the surprise you had when shotaro walked in your room while you were in the middle of changing your clothes.
it was the first day of shotaro tutoring poor anton, so you wanted to look presentable. your parents were conveniently out of town so it was up to you to entertain your guest, and anton if he really wanted to be included.
you and shotaro stared at each other for a second, his quick reflexes kicking in and shutting the door immediately. ”where’s yn?” you could hear anton’s annoying voice from the hallway as you scrambled around to get dressed. “stupid toni, stupid younger brother!” you cried quietly, running back to the bathroom to lock yourself in.
”um, i think your sister’s inside,” shotaro explained kindly, his ears bright red as he patted anton’s head. anton boldly opened the door before shotaro could even stop him. he looked around, “she’s not here?” he muttered to himself. shotaro noticed that the bathroom door was closed, naturally assuming that you were inside.
anton pulled shotaro inside, “i-isn’t this your sister’s room?” anton frowned, shaking his head. “we share the same room.” shotaro froze at the new information, simply letting anton sit him down a chair as he dragged another chair by the desk. the room smelled too much like you for it to be a shared room.
shotaro’s eyes wandered around, seeing a few of your stuff laying around, immediately looking away in case he sees something else. “should we start?” shotaro smiled tiredly, letting out a small sigh at how exhausted he felt already.
you managed to sneak out, catching a glimpse of shotaro teaching anton. like shotaro said, anton was extremely focused in what he was saying and even if you couldn’t see how anton was doing, you could just tell by the way shotaro’s voice went up as he spoke. “good job, anton!” was the phrase you heard the most that day, you could almost imagine the cute smile anton had on his face.
a few hours passed and anton’s tutoring session was over soon. you tried your best to cook up some dinner, somewhat proud of the scent emanating throughout the kitchen after you were done. you heard footsteps by the hallway, turning around to see shotaro holding his bag. “that smells nice,” he mutters, slowly approaching you.
you flash him a small smile, “would you like to have dinner here?” shotaro points at himself, awkwardly looking around before smiling back at you, “i-if you insist, then i’d be glad to.” you turned away, hiding the huge smile on your face as you begin to set up the table.
you spent dinner with shotaro alone, since anton fell asleep immediately after everything he learned. your conversation with shotaro was pleasant, and he never brought up the earlier incident. the more you knew about shotaro, the more amazed you become.
“so you studied our language all by yourself?” you couldn’t even hide your shock, making him giggle at your reaction. he nods, “it wasn’t as hard since i already lived here for quite some time. i just thought of it as a necessity for survival, next thing i know i'm teaching a bunch of kids,” shotaro shrugs as if it was nothing. you were in complete awe, finding him even more fascinating by the minute.
shotaro smiles at you, “i saw the notes in your desk, you’re also studying to be a teacher?” you blushed, your notes were always messy and the fact that shotaro saw them was embarrassing. “i’m sorry for disgracing your eyes with my notes!” you bow your head, closing your eyes shut as the sound of his laughter echoed in your ears. he had such a cute laugh.
”no, no! i like the way you took notes, it had all the information needed while also keeping it concise,” you look back up at him, blushing at the smile he had on his face as he stared at you. “t-thanks, that means a lot,” you mumbled shyly as shotaro chuckled at you.
“i’m guessing you’re taking the exam this year?” you nod at his question. “i also want to be a kindergarten teacher, but i feel like it’d be too tiring and teaching positions in higher levels have higher pay, even if it’s just a small difference,” you had a small pout on your lips.
shotaro lets out a hum as he listened to you, “why not?” you look at him with wide eyes, “what?” he laughs, “i mean, it’s a nice way to build up your portfolio while also warming yourself up to the world of teaching. if you make a mistake while teaching high schoolers or college students, it’d be harder on you.” you bite your lip, shotaro was right. you knew the world can be a cruel place.
”then, if i pass the exam, can i apply to your workplace?” you asked playfully, not expecting such a genuine answer from shotaro. “i’d love that, actually,” he stares at you with a smile, making you feel more flustered than you expected. you immediately look away, “it’d be easier for you since you have someone you know.”
you didn’t know why you felt disappointed when he added that, perhaps you were expecting him to like you just as you had this little admiration for him. you shifted around awkwardly, still not looking at shotaro.
”though, if i were being honest, it’s just a nice excuse to see you all the time.”
”what?” you snapped your head at him, noticing the blush on his cheeks and ears as he smiled at you. “anton’s doing a bit too well, i already told him i’ll only be teaching him for a week.” you felt sad at this new information, not having another reason to keep seeing shotaro.
you played with your hands, “t-then,” you cleared your throat, reaching your hand out at shotaro. he stared at you with a confused expression, placing his hand on yours. you laughed, shaking your head, “your phone.” shotaro quickly takes his hand back, digging through his pocket to give you his phone after he unlocks it.
with a playful smile on your lips, you input your number in his contacts, handing it back to shotaro. he stares at the name you saved yourself as, giggling adorably, “mine?” you smiled shyly, glad that he was taking your small attempt at flirting so well.
shotaro grinned widely, “is that permission to call you mine?” you were taken aback by his sudden boldness, blushing profusely as you look at him. “i-if you really want to!” you squeaked out a reply, too heated to think of anything proper to say. he laughs at your reply, eyes adorably disappearing as he smiled at you.
”what do you think about saturday afternoon?”
”yes?” you blink repeatedly, unsure if you even heard him correctly. saturday was literally three days away. “o-oh, is this about anton’s lessons?” you try not to sound disappointed as you keep your expectations at bay.
shotaro leans in, smiling teasingly, “it’s a date, yn.” you turn completely red at the nickname, “j-just us?” you ask quietly, still trying not to get ahead of yourself. there was no way shotaro was interested in you like that, you two would probably go around libraries just so he could help you with your exam or go outside with anton.
”just you and me,” shotaro grins at you, “no one else— a proper date.” you nod shyly, trying your hardest not to squeal out loud.
“i-it’s getting late,” you mutter quietly after seeing how dark it was outside. “oh, that’s true,” shotaro stands up and takes his bag, you immediately follow him. it was getting late and you had no idea where shotaro lived, he might miss a few trains or buses if he stays any longer— even though you desperately wanted him to.
the two of you stood by the front door and shotaro looks at you one last time, chewing on his lip as he bites back a smile. “is it okay if i kiss you?” he asks meekly, even though he’s left you completely speechless.
”k-kiss?” you squeaked out, wanting to say yes so badly. shotaro chuckles, “just the cheek, only if you don’t mind,” he cocks his head, waiting for your reply as you squirm around adorably.
you nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation. shotaro tries not to laugh at how cute you looked, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. you open your eyes to see him inches away from you, huge eyes staring into yours. he was so cute and he smelled so nice.
shotaro pulled away, still smiling widely, “i feel like i shouldn’t pull any punches with you, or else you’d misunderstand.” you didn’t quite know how to take his words but you assumed he was serious with his intentions, nodding wordlessly as he chuckles. “i’ll see you on saturday.”
watching shotaro leave was genuinely one of the saddest things you’ve gone through this week. you find yourself wishing you had a backbone so you could flirt back, but then again seeing him smile so widely at your reactions was a good thing by itself.
”are you two dating?”
you whip your head to see anton standing behind you, sleepily rubbing his eyes. “wh-what?” you stare at him, walking around the kitchen for food. “i already knew taro liked you, but i didn’t expect you to like him back so fast.”
the words that came out of your little brother’s mouth made you freeze in place. did anton just set you up with his teacher?
anton glances at you, “i saw him staring at you when i showed him a picture of me from our vacation last summer.” you frowned, “so were you setting me up? with your kindergarten teacher?”
anton laughs, shaking his head, “no! if anything, i don’t want taro to end up with you!” you stare at your brother in shock as he stuck his tongue out at you, feeling betrayed even if he was the one that connected you with shotaro.
”you better put in a good word on my behalf or else—”
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
#riize#riize imagines#riize scenarios#riize x reader#riize fluff#riize au#osaki shotaro#shotaro#shotaro imagines#shotaro scenarios#shotaro x reader#shotaro fluff#૮ > ⤙ < ྀིა#kindergarten teacher!shotaro and children!riize would be fun to write...
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RUBATOSIS || chapter two: bloating
PAIRING : Dr.Gaul's Assistant!Coriolanus Snow x Experiment!Reader-Insert ( afab, they / them, sometimes it, no explicit use of y/n )
RATING : 18+ ( tw body horror / slight sexual content )
WORD COUNT : 20, 501
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, operation treated as a metaphor for sex, sexual disassociation, 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 : Sorry for how long this took, work has kept me busy. If there are any mistakes let me know, and I hope you all like chapter two.
[ If you want to read it on AO3 instead ] [ chapter one ]
bloating || skin slippage - stage two of decomposition
By now, he was already starting to feel ill.
The beaded drops of sweat that started to latch itself onto the bare palms of his hands made them feel all the more off-putting. It made the effort of wanting ( at least, an attempt of so ) to keep a grip on the smooth skin between his fingers a far more burdensome task than needed. His hips shifting back and forth to meet with Livia’s; every single moment of their flesh meeting together, every moan and airy breath that was drawn out of her, it never failed to make him internally recoil. Since adolescent age, he always expected sex to feel passionate, the shot of nerves as if they were on fire from sheer pleasure. Festus had spoken such a great deal of it during meals at the Academy, leaning down into the group of their male peers and speaking in hushed whispers in fear someone nearby would listen in. It was hard not to feel delightfully shocked, with the flushed color on Festus’s cheeks, the juvenile gleam in his eyes.
What a liar.
Never once had he engaged in sexual activities himself prior to… to his graduation from the Academy. Only some heavy grabbing between perspired kisses, and maybe a rut, or two, with another. Livia had been his first, when it came to full on sexual intercourse.
And what an exhausting experience it was!
All that sweat, the cum, having to kiss Livia repeatedly to get the room a bit more quiet - he felt like he had been robbed. Was this not supposed to be some pivotal moment? That some inner, ‘carnal desire’ that others had boasted about would be satiated the moment he lost virginity. Yet, in the end, all he did was feel more empty, starved than he was before having sex with Livia. Starved he still was, when he walked in and out the doors of Pluribus Bell’s nightclubs. Coriolanus wondered at times, where he found himself bare and pressed against another, if there was something wrong with him. Or if maybe, if it was someone else, had it been any one of those two, would he have felt anything.
He didn’t want to question it further.
In the end, Livia always rested on the other side of his bed satisfied. If he was lucky enough to cum himself; he’d try to either sleep the experience off, or leave his place quickly with an offhand excuse, depending on the time.
His tired eyes gazed up from the expanse of Livia’s back. Coriolanus was grateful that today Livia and him fell into a position where the both of them didn’t have to make eye contact with each other. If he stared too long at just one thing, there was a chance his eyes might just become blind from desensitization. Peeks of daybreak managed their way through the dark, rich curtains of his bedroom window. The light casted over his bed in a restrained fashion, hitting his right bare shoulder and slightly onto the lower spine of Livia. He’d soon have to get ready for work after this was all done.
What a freak, he sounded like.
That he was far more excited to be working than being caught by the charms of another woman. A woman that eventually, in just a few months, was going to be the wife, the mother of his children, the one he comes home to. It felt like a nightmare. Maybe this was the “ball and chain”; that the breathing fossils in suits would harp on about at social functions, emptied bottles of posca rolling beside their sleek shoes on the floor.
Lazily, he slid his left hand up from its gripped position on Livia’s waist. The sweat between them making the glide smooth, as he ran his fingers up her shoulder blades. In all their mornings and nights, spent wrapped in the sweltering sheets, Coriolnaus doesn’t think he’s ever seen any noticeable blemishes on Livia. No freckles, no moles, no beauty marks. Not even a small scar from playing too rough in the playground. There was no argument that could be made: Livia Cardew is the perfect Capital woman. The clean expanse of flesh and the untainted blood that ran underneath spoke levels enough.
But, it also made her obscenely bland.
Sure, she’s ambitious.
Livia could be quite the cutthroat when needed, if it meant the spotlight and praise was on her. It was the few things they had in common. Though, there was no physical sign to her character, aside from her sense of fashion and the style of hair she did each morning. Even then, anyone with half a mind might protest if any of that really was part of her. Livia’s never shy when it comes to chasing the current trends of Panem. But, what’s so good about being a trend chaser if you don’t even anything else more remarkable? By all means, become the beacon of hope to the everyday Capital citizen. Tell them that with enough wealth, maybe they can buy their way into a personality, too.
Grimacing, the sensation of Livia’s body tightening around him brought him out of his daze. She was close to finishing. Meaning he was closer to being able to leave. Though, a crumb of uncertainty lodged itself into Coriolanus. It was something he dealt with before.
There was just a small window of time to decide: should he try to finish alongside Livia, or should he cum alone in his bathroom, after.
Maybe if she stopped moving her hips so wildly against him, it’d give him more space to think. His fingers slid back down her spine, the faintest shape of the laminae was jutting out, as Livia arched her back against him. Coriolanus leaned his face down, starting from the bottom of her spine he pressed his lips against her skin. Trailing open-mouthed kisses up, the salty taste of her perspiration lingered itself on his tongue. It made him internally recoil.
He’d have to scrub his teeth a bit more thoroughly, before he headed off to work.
Coriolanus felt bad for Livia’s parents. They most likely hoped that by setting this arrangement with Livia and him, that eventually, the two of them could become obsessed with each other. The truth of the matter is, sex between them both was just more so a formality. Something to give this engagement a sense of normalcy. He definitely wasn’t Livia’s type, and she wasn’t his. His type was… Coriolanus wondered, if Livia carried more imperfections on her, would she have appealed more to him?
He tried to see it.
What would he have here instead, if not just the vast expanse of soft skin. Sheltered away, easy access to the finest things Panem had to offer a girl. Would some blemishes be nice on Livia? It could be cute, if she was flustered about it. A mole? No, Coriolanus wouldn’t consider that an imperfection, unlike Livia. Maybe a scar? That could be interesting, they usually carried a story. Some uneven patches of skin that haven't healed perfectly, possibly from a botched stitch job.
His hand reached up to brush aside the sweat soaked ends of Livia’s hair, away from her neck. He could see it now, the image of that messy, metaphorical scar. The slight discoloration, the dip in the muscle, showing him just how deep the wound went. Coriolanus kissed the nape of her neck.
What would it be like to run his tongue along it?
The hand that was so firmly placed on Livia’s hip, left its spot. Instead, he moved it farther down and under her. How would Livia react, if he put so much attention on an imperfection of hers? Would it draw a choked out sound from her, an embarrassing reaction? It would be so different from the prideful image she carried everyday. Livia’s hips jerked against his own, as his fingers slid themselves between her soaked folds and up. Reaching her clit, his middle finger played with it to help her between the gasps of breath. They both hated each other, but Livia could never call him a selfish lover. Even if he wished for more from her. Even if he desired to see her as someone, something, different as she fell apart under his touch.
How funny would it be, if he took a page from Dr. Gaul’s book. Have her undergo a similar treatment to Project Prometheus, let her be redone as a blank slate. Coriolanus thought about it for a second; the lines of stitches that he traced so carefully under his gloved fingers.
The pace of his hips stuttered.
A sharp intake from his nostrils, Coriolanus quickly bit down on Livia’s neck to prevent the sound of a moan leaving his lips. He could feel the discomforting sensation of the condom filling up. It made his body shudder at the feeling, Livia’s back pressed flush against his chest. Slowly, gradually, his teeth removed themselves from Livia’s skin, taking steady breaths between his lips to try and collect himself. He brushed back a curled strand of golden hair from his forehead, the hair slightly soaked from sweat.
Well… Isn’t this just humiliating for him? The briefest thought about work somehow got him to finish.
He really was a freak.
Not that he’d tell a soul on earth about this. Imagine the stares he’d get if he confessed that thinking about work gets him to cum. Not the body of his fiance, not a pretty face under dark lights. Work. They’d be convinced that it may have been a better option to have abandoned him at District 12, rather than bring him back to the Capital. Coriolanus moved himself away from Livia, lifting himself off of her to stand his back tall once more. He grimaced throughout the entire movement, as the sweltering touch of their skin together was becoming far too noticeable for his liking. He was reminded again, about how much he could withstand Livia before his patience wore thin.
“That… was interesting…” Livia spoke in a breathy tone, a slight whimper at the end as Coriolanus pulled himself out of her.
He offered the back of her head a brief glance, before continuing to pull the condom off of him and tie it. “Something wrong?” He never really bothered to speak enthusiastically to Livia. The one time he did try to talk softly to her when they were alone, she threw him a look of disgust and told him to stop. That she found it ‘creepy’.
Livia shifted herself further into his bed, bringing her arms under one of his fine cotton pillows to nestle her face further into it. She stretched her limbs out, ankles crossing over each other. Great, she was making herself comfortable.
“No, nothing’s wrong.” She must think she’s hilarious for playing coy. “I’m just surprised you managed to stick through the entire thing. For a moment, I was almost worried for your health. You know, impotence is not just for the old.”
“Very funny, Livia.”
He wanted her out already.
Doesn’t she have any friends she should go visit? Or a family waiting for her?
He didn’t bother to look at her, instead getting up from the bed to move to his nightstand. Coriolanus grabbed the alarm clock that rested on it, holding the smooth frame of wood in his hands. Checking the time was far more interesting than participating in this conversation. It was pointless banter, with Livia just trying to get a rise out of him.
“I should say the same to you. What happened to ‘just wanting to rest for the night’?”
It was just shy of six thirty in the morning.
His ears picked on the sound of Livia sucking her teeth a few spaces behind him. Coriolanus rolled his eyes, placing the alarm clock back down with a quiet thud. Quietly, with steady steps, he walked past the lush, wine-colored carpet under his bed and into the connecting door that led to his bathroom. He turned the light switch on, its warm hue from the intricately adorned wall lamps illuminated the entire space.
Before, it always used to be a jarring experience to feel the icy tile of the bathroom floor, it was a miracle if the heater didn’t manage to bust down during the night. Now, stepping his bare foot in without a care, the mosaic marble floor didn’t make him want to jump out of his skin. There was an adequate warmth from the heaters lined at the bottom of the floors. Though, he did slightly ( barely ) miss the cold. If his alarm clock failed to jolt him awake for class, he could always depend on the freezing appliances and water to finish the job. He turned, facing the large sink vanity. The top of the sink was made from sleek ceramic marble, with the cabinets beneath it being made from polished blackwood. Lined against the wall under the vanity, stood a multitude of care products he had taken to purchase for himself. However, something curious caught Coriolanus’s eye. Livia had made her own small collection here, too. Not as plentiful as he had, considering this is his bathroom, but she had her own products that she often left behind. A ‘just in case’, when she stayed nights here.
Coriolanus was half tempted to tell her to get rid of them. If the products were that important, she could carry it in a duffel bag when she came over. Or, she could just handle doing a brisk walk of shame to her chauffeur's car, so she could go home and wash herself. His home wasn’t her extra storage unit.
Outside his bedroom door, he could hear just the faintest sounds of someone moving on the floor below. It was very quiet, the slightest noise of clanging pots and pans. The warm smell of coffee being brewed and warm cooking oil bled through the halls of the estate, and seeped under the cracks of the door. Perfect, the cook came in just in time. If he was lucky, the cook would finish his breakfast just before he came down and he’d be able to finish it quickly before work. Just before Livia could come down. He hadn’t forgotten her actions previously, he noticed how eager she seemed to make a pattern.
Wasn’t this supposed to be his place of comfort?
Here he was in his new home, trying to get some independence away from his family and a woman he didn’t even love was intruding upon it. Coriolanus took the toothbrush from its ceramic holder on the wall, wetting the bristles under the turned on faucet before applying the paste. Bringing it up and into his mouth, he started to scrub thoroughly. The phone connected to his bedside had started to ring. Coriolanus made a gesture to move his body to get it, but Livia beat him to it.
He’d let her take it, for now. He wasn’t fond of it, but if his fiance was the one answering the phone, it’d sell their image of a ‘perfect marriage’ better.
He glanced from the corner of the doorway to see Livia take the handset of the black dial phone in her hands, before he went back to finish brushing his teeth. She answered in a faux sweet tone:
“Livia Cardew, soon to be Livia Snow, speaking.”
Ew.
Just broadcast to the whole world at this point. Hearing her say it aloud brought a chill down his spine. It was true, but it still was a jarring reality to accept.
“Oh, Tigris! Good morning, how are you?”
Coriolanus quickly spat out the paste from his mouth, the mixture of its foam and his spit splattered against the drain.
“Coriolanus? He’s in the bathroom right now. Do you want me to go grab him for you?”
Was his heart racing? He felt like his heart was racing.
His hand gripped at the edges of the marble top, while the other reached to turn back on the faucet. Trembling, his fingers, wrapping around the lever to lift it up and twist to warm. It had been a moment since Tigris sought to call him. Since he left home, it’s always been him to reach out. If he just left it up to her, he feared that he’d only hear from her once a year. She’d probably like it to be that way, too, knowing her. But, he’d never let it happen. He was always going to remind her of the fact that the both of them are family. Regardless of what he did, what he’ll do, the connection of blood between them was never going to diminish. He had lost them, he wasn’t going to let himself lose her, too.
Maybe he should wash his mouth out quicker, to go and speak to her, Coriolanus reasoned.
His hands cupped around the running water, bringing it up to his mouth to swish it around. What did Tigris want to tell him? Was it something mundane? Did she want to check on him? But, it was unlikely, unless Tigris miraculously had a change of heart through the night. Which meant most likely she was calling for an emergency. That made his heart sink worse at the thought. Had Grandma’am’s health declined? Did a doctor notice an abnormality in Tigris’s body?
“You just wanted him to relay something to me? Well, I’m here now, I’m all ears.”
Coriolanus spit the water out his mouth, and grabbed the mouthwash for extra measure.
…So.
She didn’t want to speak to him.
She just wanted him to play sweet messenger boy for Livia.
Taking the small amount of mouthwash into his mouth, he closed his lips to swirl it around the crevices inside. The sound of Livia’s conversation with Tigris began to drown itself out into a white noise. Coriolanus didn’t really care what they were talking about anymore. It wasn’t for him, so it really didn’t matter. He should’ve expected the result. But, it stung just a bit, knowing that she preferred Livia over him. He never expected that designing one dress somehow endeared the seamstress to the client.
What did that mean for him? Tigris had designed, fixed, and traded the majority of his clothes. Was there a limit? Too much work, and suddenly the seamstress only answers calls when the full moon is out and the lucky lottery color of the day is green. Coriolanus spit the mouthwash out into the sink, the strong taste of medicinal mint left on his tongue. Not a single trace of Livia’s taste remained. His hand held onto the faucet’s lever, twisted it back to turn it off. The sleek, cool material of brass slipped out from his fingers, as he brought his palm down. Across the smooth marble top and down to grip at its edges, where it hung just a bit over the blackwood cabinet. Distantly, he watched the remnants of water slowly leak down to the drain.
What had he done? Coriolanus genuinely wanted to know. What had he done, personally, to Tigris, that made her so distasteful towards him?
Ever since he had come back from District 12, when he had told her that he was to be accepted into the University and work under Dr. Gaul’s assistant full-time, Tigris had spoken to him so meekishly, so quietly. When he, on the other hand, had hoped to share this joy with his beloved cousin. Having been recently discharged from that hellscape, and finding new success by his merits finally being acknowledged, Strabo Plinth taking him on as a replacement son - he thought she’d be happy for him. That with their penthouse now off the market, that it spoke to a new wave of golden years for the Snow family. They could finally go back to where things used to be. No longer did they have to worry so much about helping Grandma’am up the stairs, when the elevator broke down. No more, did Tigris have to go through tight street corners and rusted alleyways to exchange goods. Was this not what they wanted? What she wanted?
Coriolanus’s jaw locked into a grit, his knuckles tightening in grip.
Did she just want something new to coddle and dote on? That maybe, rather it being something wrong with him; he just no longer appealed to her naive delusions. Was he not still, the same young boy who’d hold her hand during festivals…? Something glazed over his eyes and he blinked it away quickly, raising his head back up to look at his own reflection.
No, this shouldn’t discourage him.
If anything, it should invigorate him more to proceed with this damned wedding. If dangling Livia on a hook was what it took to keep Tigris still in contact with him, then so be it. And if she grew tired of Livia, then he’d bring her a new one. The pound never ran out of pets to parade.
Coriolanus walked over to the shower, turning it on. Sliding open the glass panels just a smidge more, for his body to slip through. He let the shower head rain over him, wetting his pushed back hair; the combed out strands starting to curl under the exposure, falling along his forehead. Coriolanus was thankful, for the beating sound of water hitting the tiles. It drowned out even more, the noise of Livia’s voice. Her obnoxious laughter was almost non-existent at this point. His hand reached out to the indented shelf built into the shower wall, touching the honed, pine green porcelain tiles. A different focus was what he needed. He needed something else to think about.
Grabbing the bottle of body wash, and the hanging shower luffa, he popped the bottle open. The smell of vanilla and roses touched the steamed air. Lathering the luffa against his hand, when the foam of soapy bubbles finally formed, he brought it towards his body. What a luxury it was, to be able to use things like shower gels and brushes, rather than a bar of mediocre soap and a worn-out rag. He scrubbed the luffa against his body, ‘til his skin started to look red and it felt sore against the hot water. The Citadel didn’t necessarily carry out a specific requirement of cleanliness, but working with other researchers and touching dangerous materials and waste alike; a thorough wash seemed second nature for the job. And the easily swooned crowds of Capital elites always enjoyed a well-groomed figure to stand behind.
If he showed up and greeted Dr. Gaul with the slightest speck of dirt under his nails, she’d chew him out viciously. He’s seen her humiliate workers for less at the Citadel, forcing them to endure the embarrassment of washing their hands in front of her until she’s satisfied. Coriolanus feared that due to their ‘friendly’ bond, she might even go as far as to wash his hands herself. Dr. Gaul’s pruned hands touching his own? He shuddered. A grimace forced his lips into a frown. Closing his eyes to chase out the thought, he brought his head under the water. He scrubbed the conditioner out until he no longer felt any residue in his hair.
He wanted to focus on something else.
Watching the suds of soap slowly enter the drain, he tried to think of Livia. When he dried off, would she still be in bed? They’ve seen each other naked plenty of times, but getting ready together… That felt like a level of intimacy that Coriolanus was not keen on sharing with her. She might even feel the same. He hummed quietly to himself as he turned off the hot water. When they eventually move in together, he should consider making her a personal room in the mansion. He could only tolerate sharing a bed with her some nights. It wasn’t everyday of the week she stayed over, which is why he never spoke out before. Sighing through his mouth, his hand rubbed the bridge of his nose. He slid open the glass shower panel, extending his arm out first, to grab the crimson, cotton towel from the brass hanger. The soft towel was promptly wrapped around his head to shuffle around his wet locks, drying it just well enough before stretching out the fabric to wrap around his waist. Mist from the shower followed after him, as he stepped out of it.
As he made his way back to the sink vanity, he noticed the vague shape of something left next to the sink bowl. He picked it up in his hands, the discarded, salmon colored toothbrush of Livia; wet in his hands. Coriolanus’s face pulled a frown, placing it back correctly. Since when did Tigris and her finish talking? He barely noticed Livia entering and using the bathroom while he showered. Grabbing onto the doorframe of the bathroom, he peeked his head out slightly.
No Livia resting in bed.
His clothes for the day were already picked out for him, laying there instead at the foot of his bed. A relief he didn’t know he craved, filled him immediately.
Blue eyes moved to another target of focus, noticing quite clearly the empty space where one of his robes should very obviously be. And the dread had made its way back into his system!
Coriolanus zipped his head back into the bathroom.
Quickly, he thought. Quickly, he needed to finish getting ready, grabbing the bottle of moisturizer in one hand and plugging in the blowdryer in the other. She is trying to corner him at the breakfast table today. What more did she want? Does she need a favor? Is it another ‘date’? He prayed it wasn’t the latter. He wants to go into work on a good note. Coriolanus checked his face in the mirror; clear of any new, stray hairs around his lips and chin. Flicking out the tooth comb from its place, he took a small amount of pomade and brushed his ( mostly ) dried hair back and to the side. The curls in his hair smoothed themselves out against the comb’s teeth. In his transition back to his room, the towel that loyally clung to his hips was left discarded on the bathroom floor; his legs swiftly moving to slot themselves into a new, clean pair of underwear. He didn’t think much as he put on the ironed white button up, adorning the fitted waist vest over it and matching deep-red colored trousers that hid the black, cotton sock garters underneath. Carefully, he looped the rich black leather belt through the loops of the slack, a satisfying clink from the buckle when he locked in place. With one last look in the mirror, necessities all gathered, and a spray of cologne, he fit himself into his shoes and went out the bedroom door and where he knew Livia was waiting for him.
“Chef, if you could please, pack my breakfast and coffee to go. I have to head into work soon,” Coriolanus actually had thirty minutes to spare. Frankly, he could lounge around and start up a new book if he wanted.
“What? You’re not even late, you’re perfectly on time!” Livia cried out, her head turned to his figure now entering the room.
Sitting just right across from his usual seat, she was wearing the oh-so-familiar robe that was missing before. The entire round table, covered by a white table-cloth and a vase of freshly plucked white roses at the center, was filled to each end with an abundance of food. Varying ranges to pancakes and crepes, bowls of yogurt and sliced fruits, to freshly cooked eggs and meats such as sausages, sliced ham, and bacon. He wished so badly that he could take his time to pick out his selection and eat. But, alas. Coriolanus walked over to Livia, his overcoat and gloves already being put on. A hand against the top of her chair, he leaned his head down to give a kiss to the side of her cheek; Livia grumbled under her breath in response. The cook he hired belonged to him, they would never snitch about the facade between them, but one was never too sure.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Gaul called me in,” A lie, but nothing outlandish. “You know how she can be, I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
Livia rolled her eyes at him before going to pick at her plate, her fork poking a bit at the strawberries and bananas she had on her pancakes. He raised an eyebrow, faking a questionable gaze. Internally, however, he was gloating in self-satisfaction. His fears in the morning shower were shown to be warranted, as he watched her. Livia looked akin to a spoiled child who had just been told no.
“Is something wrong? What happened?” Coriolanus brought the hand away from her chair, bringing it down to touch her shoulder. He gave it a small squeeze, an extra effort to really upsell his image of a ‘loving husband’.
A sigh came from Livia’s lips.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Then she should stop throwing a tantrum. “I was just hoping to talk to you about my wedding dress. Tigris finally secured all the material, so she wants me to come in to do some fittings while she gets started on it.”
So that’s what his cousin wasted his call-line on. For something so trivial, too. The Cardew’s home-line should be working just fine: or did Mommy Cardew waste too much money on her trophy of a husband and neglect the phone bill?
“Really? Well, that’s great news, isn’t it!” Coriolanus laughed at the end of his words. Frankly, it was terrible news. It just reminded him constantly of the looming date. It hung over his head like a jail sentence. “What do you need me for? It seems you two have it handled here,” He tried to make his words sound encouraging, but he couldn’t help the slight envy that skipped in his tone. Livia knew it too. This time, she was the one raising a brow back at him.
“I thought you’d be curious to see what we planned. I have the sketch Tigris drew up right here,”
Coriolanus’s brows creased, the smile dropping slightly off his face. He gave her a look of confusion. He wasn’t really quite sure what she was expecting out of him seeing her dress. Validation? Praise? Or, could she see right past him. Maybe she had sourced out the root to his bitter tone. He wondered what Tigris and her spoke about in these appointments. They likely gossiped about him. No doubt Tigris gave her pitiful woes to Livia, how terrified she was to see him again in person. That even a phone call with him had her fingers trembling when it spun the dial. And Livia, undoubtedly ate it all up. It’s why she wanted to show him the sketch. Show him just how close the two became. Coriolanus grinded his teeth internally, the slightest nudge of his jaw ticked.
Her hands reached into his robe that she wore, the sound of paper being shuffled and rustled around being heard. Did she keep other papers in there? She couldn’t possibly be turning some of his belongings into hers. Maybe he should think twice about leaving Livia alone in his home. With manicured nails, Livia pulled out a folded piece of sketch paper, a slight crease at the edge. Opening it up, she placed the paper on the table first. With one hand, Livia did her best at smoothing the edges out before handing it over to him. A simple ‘Here’ was all she said.
Coriolanus accepted the paper, embarrassingly quick, soaking in its details.
The paper was made of coarse, recycled sketch paper, giving a tan hue. There was a smell of graphite and ink that lifted off the paper. Scribbled in the corner were small, little drawings. Variety of poses and designs that have crossed out under ink, ideas that no longer worked. The drawing that had taken the majority of the page was a quick mock sketch of assumingly, Livia. Her hair was pinned up in a stacked bun style, with a pearl caul piece on it. Pins of white roses and buds placed at random adorned the head. Expectantly, the veil was made to match it. A mesh see through material, with rosebuds and pearls scattered around, lace at the ends of it. A pearl necklace was adorned on the sketch’s neck. The dress was a sweetheart neckline, plunged and fitted at the top with white embroidery. The fabric near sheer underneath, turning more opaque when it hit the waist, fitted all until the ankle, where the dress flared and spread. White rosebuds were sprinkled around the calf line, blooming into full flowers as it reached the bottom. Curious though, that the white rosebuds gradually transitioned to red flowers when it touched the ends. It gave the silhouette of Livia’s pure white dress having been dragged through blood. Coriolanus couldn’t understand why Livia would agree to the design. It felt like Tigris was trying to push some personal agenda forward by doing so. He knew there were few elders who still carried the belief that wearing red at a wedding meant something scandalous. Back before, when Panem had yet to be made. Something about being intimate with the groom? Livia is his fiance, so most attendants would hope they’ve slept together.
Did Tigris believe he was supposed to be promised with another?
He ‘dated’ ( was used by ) only one person.
Coriolanus sucked his teeth.
“You don’t like the dress?”
“No, that’s not it,” He might downright hate the dress, actually. If his assumption is right. Coriolanus paused in between his words. Usually, he’d have no issue throwing verbal jabs at Livia. It was a thing that both did to each other. However. It’d be humiliating for him to admit out loud that she needed to change the dress because of a past ex. He sighed,
“I just… slightly regret not asking Tigris to design my suit, too.” Ugh, that sounded too vulnerable now. He needed to reel back in. “Thank you for showing it to me, though. I’ll send you the name of my designer later to send it over, it’ll be nice to have matching attire for our wedding.” He handed the paper back to Livia. Her eyes had an unreadable look to them, as if wanting to say something else. His skin itched under her sight. Don’t say anything. Don’t say–
“Mr. Snow, I have your breakfast packed and ready,”
Eagerly, Coriolanus diverted his gaze away from Livia, giving her the briefest ‘apologetic’ glances before turning his head. Emerging from the connecting hall that led to the kitchen, the cook had taken a step forward towards him. In one hand, they held two breakfast sausages, each one wrapped with an omelette; they were held in tight, folded wax paper to avoid the food’s oil spreading. The other, held the mug of coffee, and a folded, square, white box carrier made of cardboard on their spare fingers. The carrier held minimal, barely any, patterns. Small etchings of abatina flowers and leaves on it. The corners of lips ticked up gradually at the sight of it, a hint of teeth poking out from his smile. His mood had started to turn itself up slowly. The situation just seconds before, now was taking a backseat in his psyche. This, needed his attention. And he’d gladly give it. He didn’t want to think about Tigris anymore. He didn’t want to think about the wedding. Coriolanus reached his hand over to take his belongings away from the cook.
Just think about work today.
“Thank you, you know I always appreciate your work here.” They were getting paid a hefty paycheck, he’d sure hope they were putting their best in everything. “If you mind telling me, what’s in here today?” He was gesturing to the carrier. Lifting it slightly in the air with his finger to emphasize it.
“It’s a cheesecake, with a slightly burned outer layer.”
His eyes creased slightly with his smile.
“Perfect, thank you.”
Coriolanus turned his head back to Livia, who had finally started to eat away at her plate, rather than play. Catching her mid-bite, he asked, as any future husband would: “Will you be here when I come back?” If the cook wasn’t here, Livia would’ve sneered harshly at his feigned curiosity.
“We’ll see. I have some extended family visiting today after my appointment with Tigris,” Oh, so the circus was getting back together. “If you get off work early, you should come by. They’d love to see you.” He’s sure they would.
“We’ll see,”
He repeated the words back to her, before dipping his head back down to give her another kiss. This one just shy above her lips, before pulling away and finally leaving the estate’s premises. Coriolanus hoped his displays of affection ruined her morning, just as her presence ruined his.
The crisp, cold air outside waited for him, keeping him company as he made his trek to the Citadel. Weaving carefully through other citizens, it was thankfully less crowded than normal. He managed to avoid the morning rush of workers; a consolation, that he didn’t have to worry too much about accidentally bumping into someone with his full hands. The steady buzz of the moving trolleys, the humble, yet luxurious cars that drove through Panem’s streets, was at a far lower frequency. Low, and only the occasional loud noise from shops and stores getting to open, the bells of the door a distant chime. He felt almost alone. A great contrast from the minimal chaos before. It gave him space, it gave him clarity. The quietness gave him time to think. Coriolanus tried to ease himself down, as he took his first sip of coffee. He should find the change of scenery liberating. If he stayed any longer in that suffocating environment, he feared he would have snapped right then and there. The headlines would be clear as day: ‘Snow & Plinth Heir Strangles Fiance in their New Home’! He’d lose everything if he couldn’t keep his patience in check. The tightrope he walked on always was fine, and narrow. Everything he did had an audience, and each step he took had an effect. All he wanted was just a moment to breathe.
A steady exhale from his mouth, careful to not be so loud in the tame atmosphere. The movement causing the carrier in his fingers to jostle a bit.
That’s right, he still had this under his control.
It’s such a simple thing to bring his thoughts back down to the concrete path he walked. The weight of the carrier in his hand felt significantly lighter, easier to hold amongst the other things he carried. It gave his tense mind a small fuse of excitement. Curiosity lit his neurons anew, wondering what Subject A01’s reaction would be to the ‘gift’. He had the cook make it specifically for them. Since he held the first exam for the subject, he’s made it a habit to visit it. Not too often, to not cause a rise of suspicion, but enough to satisfy what he needed. Three times a week seemed fair enough. It had only been just a month since.
Coriolanus saw a first glimpse of how Dr. Gaul had conditioned it and affected its mind with only simple verbal conferences. He wanted to take that approach and raise it further: the introduction of spoils to Project Prometheus.
It started small. First, it was small things like hard delights. Hard caramels, strawberry suckers, or tart lemon candy. He’d speak to it, asking questions and probing, coaxing more answers out of them. Coriolanus noted before how limited and short the subject’s responses were. When the subject had started to speak more, he brought them more elaborate sweets. Moving away from candy, he re-introduced simple, but satisfying delicacies back to their tongue. Butter cookies, bites of meringue, and pieces of milk chocolate. He knew that the subject was being fed enough at Lab C09, the fact that their bones didn’t protrude abnormally back in the exam showed that. However, he knew it most definitely wasn’t enough to satiate. He knew hunger well, he’s starved through these familiar streets before. But, even when he had to succumb to the bland boil of potatoes and dated cans of food from the Dark Days; his young self always craved more. Reminiscing of times of sweet toffee and rich peanut brittle he used to eat at festivals while feasting on dubious scrapped food. Project Prometheus’s brain was a blank slate so, infuriatingly, memories of such possible past luxuries meant nothing to them. But, it was smart enough to see the obvious difference between bland slop for meals, and carefully crafted desserts.
It’s so funny, Coriolanus thought. How malleable they’ve become under his hand.
Ever since he started this routine of greeting them, engaging in conversation, smiling at them, giving them a treat at the end; he noticed how much they’ve changed since then. While still very transparent with him, they used to be more withdrawn, he observed. They still have an issue with being more expressive facial-wise, but he could sense the bits of shyness now within their body language. Everytime he comes to Lab C09 and they see him walking past the glass-pane walls, they eagerly wait for him. It did something to his ego, to see this thing be so excited by his mere presence. Sitting on the examination table, its legs kicking back and forth in the air as it waited idly. Or sometimes, on occasion, he’d find it napping on the exam table. He was more partial to the latter, the silence, the resting expression, completely unguarded; it was almost beguiling. All of it far more tolerable than the people he had to deal with outside of the lab. The subject should feel honored. A former rebel was somehow more pleasing to share a space with than most Capital citizens. He knew he felt so honored, when he was with it. Unconsciously, Subject A01 had begun to revere his presence. He could see, in the small pauses of conversation, it was internally salivating. Waiting for him to show the next gift he had for it. Kind, that was the word Project Prometheus had called him.
And was he not the kindest person in the Citadel, maybe even Panem, for doing this?
Coriolanus doubted any other person would ever think to feed a prisoner. A former rebel. They’d run the moment the subject tried to touch them. He’d even bet some would shriek when they saw how disheveled it was. And yet, here he was. Feeding it like he would a pet. Except this one could communicate back. It told him its favorite color, the animals it remembered, what sweets it preferred from the array he brought in, and the temperature it liked in the lab. Things of personal interest were hard to answer, due to the lack of memory. To make it up to him for this, it described other things to him. It said to him how almost the majority of Lab C09 was renovated for them. Specific doors that tunneled them into different rooms: the examination room, the washroom, the operation room, and its cell bed. It believed that it was for its ease of access. Coriolanus deduced it was to avoid having Project Prometheus use the same halls as the Citadel workers, keeping its movements restricted and monitored. The subject made it a habit to head to the examination room everyday, as that’s usually where Dr. Gaul would be. If something else was needed, the Peacekeepers spoke to the subject through intercoms to notify it. He had asked if it ever tried speaking to the Peacekeepers personally. It hadn’t, finding itself too paralyzed to try. Perhaps a muscle memory, trauma from when it was taken away. He asked if it did anything to stave off the time.
It told him that it would just wait for him.
“Good morning,” Coriolanus spoke with a bright smile on his face, greeting the front desk of the Citadel.
The clerk’s eyes widened at the sight of him, having been in the middle of taking a sip from their mug. Quickly, swallowing it down, dabbing the edges of their pink lipstick with a napkin. “You’re here early, Mr. Snow!” A laugh came out from their slightly smudged lips. Had he really come in that early? Coriolanus knew it was a bit much to expect levels of professionalism at all hours, but if they were in a work setting, there should be some self-imposed standard. He always sees the clerk so put together at all times, a few minutes of difference shouldn’t change that. “Good morning to you, too and welcome back!”
The usual hivemind of workers that he saw every time he came in was far more dwindled down, right now. The smell of coffee beans brewing had yet to stain the air, only wisps of it on occasion. People were still getting their day ready before the clock started. The underlying scent of chemicals was far more prominent, with nothing to hide it. To any outsider, it would’ve been nauseating. But, it gave a heavy-handed reminder to guests the purpose of the Citadel.
“Is Dr. Gaul at the usual?” Chuckling at the end of his words. Coriolanus pointed at the top of his upper lip, tapping it, indicating to the clerk the smudge. Did they not own a mirror, or compact, of sorts?
“O-Oh–!” They quickly dabbed their lips again with a napkin. Much better. He gave the ‘ok’ sign with his fingers. “Y-Yes, she should be.”
“Thank you, you have a good day,”
With one last smile to the front desk clerk, he turned his way to the direction of Lab H05. Heading down the familiar hallway, only a few workers occasionally passed by him. With no rush on either side, they could take the time to exchange pleasantries. Saying good morning to one, complimenting the other on their makeup, and another giving flattery to his choice of apparel. Often, Coriolanus never really bothered himself with things like this. A nod and a smile was enough to make the others feel special. Today’s different, he supposed. Or, maybe it’s something gradual that has been building up. He felt fine for the most part, but maybe that was a trick of the mind. The sign that his mind was on the verge of collapsing soon. There was so much already piling up on him and the clock hadn’t even struck eight yet. Coriolanus worried if he was going to be able to come back home mentally sound by the end of it all. Would Dr. Gaul ever fancy the opportunity of playing therapist for a day? She could be dependable. She’s seen, and made some, if not almost all, the skeletons in his closet.
No, Coriolanus feared if he went to her it’d just make him worse. If he admitted to her aloud that he trusted her as a confidant, the disgust he’d feel at her uncensored glee.
Maybe he really was going crazy.
The warmth of the Citadel was starting to feel sweltering beneath the layers he wore. Coriolanus could feel the slightest damp sensation building at the back of his neck.
“Are you here, Dr. Gaul?”
Coriolanus peeked his head into Lab H05 through the doorway carefully. Catching the familiar silhouette of curly hair through his gaze, he knew the gleam of red, latex leather flexing under the fluorescent lights.
“Coryo,” The breathy, saccharine way she said it still brought him waves of nausea. His stomach turned. Whatever happened to the benefits of exposure therapy? Were they just never going to reap in this case? “Please, come in.”
Taking full steps in, there hadn’t been much change to the facility. Only that more shelves had been placed in, making two passageways that were farther against the walls more crowded. Dr. Gaul’s projects were her trophies, and she loved to show off. Even if it made her the weirdest one at parties. She sat at the center of the lab, where all the shelves slowly faded out and stasis tanks became more prominent, perfectly lined up. Of course, an egotistical lady would want her work to quite literally center around her. On a chair of fine, navy leather, bounded up by wheels on the bottom, she sat beside a decently sized writing desk made of dark, walnut wood. The desk was placed near the edge of the center, close to the large stasis tanks that held larger specimens. They lined the edges of the circle, as if a far more grotesque equivalent of statued idols. Their height was impressive, how they almost halfway reached the ceiling, dwarfing almost anything nearby. At the sound of his shoes closing in on her location, she turned in her chair, facing him entirely. Smile and all, with her dazzling row of teeth on display.
“My, Coryo… Has Ms. Cardew turned your alarm clock back a few minutes?” Coriolanus was thankful that Dr. Gaul didn’t refer to her as ‘Mrs. Snow.’ “How sweet, the stage of couple mischief has already started.”
“I suppose you could put it like that.” With a laugh, he wanted to leave it at that.
Coriolanus could see the way Dr. Gaul’s brows lifted in curious glee when he spoke. He’d let her mind run with whatever conclusions it jumped to, seeing how much fun it brought her. It must be hard to find entertainment in old age. Taking another leather chair besides Dr. Gaul, this one lacking the back Dr. Gaul’s chair had, resembling more of a cushioned stool; he took his seat next to her. He placed down the coffee, carrier, and meal at the table, away from the documents Dr. Gaul was bent over moments before. Taking off his leather gloves, he folded it in his overcoat pocket before taking off the overcoat and folding it as well, besides his belongings. Coriolanus made himself comfortable, and with a quick glance, he peeked at the documents. There, sat a manila folder, a report, with familiar font and writing he knew well. His hands fingered its pages often, looking through it.
Project Prometheus’s folder.
… Had there been new developments?
Why else would Dr. Gaul have its case file open today. He couldn’t imagine something bad happening, physically. By the looks of it, the subject had no ounce of rebellion left, it couldn’t comprehend a reason why to fight anymore. It surely had to be something mental. Had the subject’s mental decay reached a point of no return? Had it forgotten Dr. Gaul, now? Him? He’d be pissed, if so. All that sweat, blood, and effort wasted away because Project Prometheus couldn’t be bothered anymore. It said to hell with not just the past, let's get rid of the present, and future, too! Coriolanus was going to murder it, he was sure. He couldn’t lose his stress-release now. Especially when he needed it most of all days. One brow rose inquisitively, looking back up from the file to Dr. Gaul. She responded only with a widened smile, her eyes creasing at the pull of her cheeks. Rotten woman, wanting to keep him guessing. Forget his mention of Gaul being a confidant. Livia and her might as well share a coin together.
“Want to share breakfast with me?”
It was the best thing, for now. Extending a hand out to her, the folded wax paper that contained sausages and omelettes. They still had warmth radiating from it. Not as hot as it was in his estate, but still adequately warm enough to eat. A twinkle went through Dr. Gaul’s eyes that made Coriolanus internally gag. She couldn’t actually be delighted by his request? For goodness sake, does everything he does endear her? Others would think that as he rose in power, the more serious people would take him. On Gaul, it had an opposite effect. It made her want to coo at him more. The sound of leather shifting was quietly heard, as she brought her fingers close to his outstretched hand, before halting.
“Do you have napkins?” She asked.
“I have spare handkerchiefs.”
Better than nothing, unless she wanted to wash her greased hands in front of him after.
Reaching into his pockets, Coriolanus took them out. Alternatives, he kept. He always carried a main one, something Tigris made for him as a gift to celebrate his return after losing his father’s back in the Academy. It was made of simple, off-white linen, with carefully stitched embroidery of foliage and bugloss flowers, and his initials tucked in the inside. His favorite, that he kept ironed, pressed and without a stain. He’s never let anyone use it since. As a result, he’s had to buy miscellaneous extras, for occasions like these. When he had to give hand-outs to a woman who believed herself to be a replacement for the mother that was most definitely rolling in her grave right now. He placed in Gaul’s hand a mauve colored handkerchief, and himself an aegean blue, both made of light muslin. No embroidery, and no personal touches. Simple, and cut perfectly.
Dr. Gaul gave him a delighted ( gross ) thank you, taking the handkerchief to pick up one sausage and omelette. Carefully, she took a bite, not wanting to ruin the dark, red lipstick she had on. He followed in her example, taking a bite of his own. The salted taste of the omelette touched his taste buds immediately, mixing in the delightful savory-sweet bite of the breakfast sausage, the red bell-peppers and green onions used balanced well. He almost regrets giving the other to Dr. Gaul now. He didn’t realize how hungry he was before. A silence had fallen between them, with the occasional sound of their chewing sneaking its way through. Coriolanus stretched his legs out a bit, from his seated position, staring at the stasis tanks that surrounded them.
He wasn’t really sure what he was hoping for, staring at revolting oddities encased in amber resin. Maybe that they’d blink? Surely, that’d be leagues better than this. To stare at Dr. Gaul while they both ate seemed like a daunting feat. She’d most definitely stare at him back unwavering, and that possibility horrified him more.
“So,”
Dr. Gaul started her words, Coriolanus turned his head back to look at her. Dr. Gaul rubbed her gloved figures on the mauve cloth, the entire breakfast he had given her already gone. Does no one feed her? “Are you excited for the wedding? I can already hear the ceremony bells coming closer and closer with each month.”
A misidentification from the chimes of her coming death. Coriolanus was understanding. It was very easy to mix the two sounds up, they do sound slightly similar.
Finishing a bite and swallowing, he held a hand over his mouth, “Only eight months away now,” He smiled politely. Dr. Gaul was always so prying when it came to the details of his life. It frustrated him that she’d never let sleeping dogs lie.
“Livia is the most excited between us. This morning she showed me the design of her wedding dress. Roses and pearls all around,” His finger made a circular gesture in the air, emphasizing the last part. Coriolanus noticed how Dr. Gaul’s eyes slightly narrowed as he spoke, her grin still ever present. He wasn’t quite sure if his words were selling it. Then again, Dr. Gaul always managed somehow to see through him. Gaul rested her elbow against the table, propping her hand up to lean her head on it. Legs shifted under her long amaranth dress, the fabric shifting as she crossed them. He took another bite of his food to stave off this constricting feeling building in his chest.
“My… That cousin of yours works rather quickly. She must be elated for your union,” Sure, let’s go with that. He continued chewing. “Have you gotten your suit designed yet?”
In one gulp, he swallowed the food down.
Coriolanus looked back up at her, a shared look between the two. They both knew the answer to this. He didn’t know why she was asking. If she needed to remember it, might as well just give him a notepad and pen so he could write it down for her. He’d gladly fold the paper too, to put it in her pockets. Lips pulled into a polite smile, a pause before speaking:
“No. I haven’t had the time to seek out a designer just yet.”
There was plenty of time, he just didn’t want to do it. Seeking out a seamstress would only just solidify this grim situation into reality. To put in any effort into this grotesque ceremony would do that.
Gaul tutted at him.
“That’s no good, Coryo. You can’t just leave that for the last minute.”
She still sounded amused, despite her words speaking of disapproval. A woman like her should have no effect on him, but she did. It had an effect on Coriolanus. Livia and Tigris had taken so much of his energy this morning that it left him vulnerable in front of the lion’s mouth. He wanted to retreat into himself, his ears slightly burned in humiliation. Was he not an adult? The ripe age of twenty one and here he was, feeling like a child being scolded for not completing their chores. Her words made him feel small. But, it also made him want to spill so easily in her hands, tell her about the utter exhaustion he felt from early this morning. It sickened him, the ways Gaul made him feel. Coriolanus fought back against the frustrated flush that threatened to spill over to his cheeks, keeping his gaze steady with Dr. Gaul's eyes that only sparkled with delight and play.
That’s right, play, he reminded himself.
She’s only playing, that’s all she does. That’s all she wants. He wanted to save face, but a part of him feared that Dr. Gaul would scold him further if he did. The smile never left his face, but his eyes decently narrowed in warning. It was the most he could do to stand his ground. Dr. Gaul’s smile widened, incisors hidden under her lips, brimming.
“Quite the set of daggers you have there,” The tight sound of pressure applied to latex was heard, thick and suffocating. Gaul raising one hand to bring close to his face, and he could only stare at its unnerving red color. Off-white blue lights from the lab reflected on its shiny material. Her pointer finger touched the center of his eyes, the region of bare flesh and nasal bone underneath. “Those aren’t for me, are they?” Her voice spoke more softly, just a hushed whisper. Coriolanus dared to raise his gaze off her finger, and to Dr. Gaul’s eyes. At usual, they were wide, showing the full, yet limiting, range of her heart to others. Yet, here there were, eyelids half raised. The muscles in her smile barely pulled at the zygomaticus. There was an unreadable look to her, but Coriolanus knew it wasn’t anger. He couldn’t fathom what it was. It made his chest feel tight, the action to take steady breaths proved itself a challenging feat that it was painful.
He wanted to bite her finger off.
“... No.”
It felt like the words were fighting themselves to get out. He had to stop himself from saying it between gritted teeth.
“Never towards you.”
Coriolanus wanted to throw up with how softly he breathed these words out to Dr. Gaul. The saliva in his mouth tasted acidic.
Why was he reassuring her feelings? He’s the one who’s getting married to the physical embodiment of a leech, and he had to placate the fickle feelings of a woman with ‘baby fever’.
“The planning of the wedding is… just a bit of a sensitive subject, right now. For both Livia and I, considering how much is being put into it.” Saying those words aloud did nothing to alleviate the feeling. It only just made them that much heavier. The hand that held his handkerchief of food folded the fabric within itself, clenching carefully before folding it. Coriolanus still made sure to keep his head in place as he did so, his gaze steady on the other. Uncertain of whether it was okay or not to pull away from her touch. The steady warmth of Dr. Gaul’s finger had become unbearable. He wouldn’t be surprised if it left a burnt imprint on his skin when she eventually lifted it up. A silence had consumed them, with Gaul’s head slightly tilted up, as if to carefully look down at him. As if he was just another specimen whose temperament she was testing the boundaries of. Would she hope that he bared his teeth, too?
After careful examination, she let out a small hum.
“Good. I don’t need a rebellious assistant. One was more than enough,”
Excuse you?
Opening his mouth, ready to question more, Gaul’s finger slid down the bridge of nose, over to his lips. The motion silenced him, the weight pressed against the two pink muscles. She’d give him no room to speak on it and he had to obey that. Lifting her finger off, immediately, it sent signals to his entire body to ease itself back. Muscles were still taut and ready, rigid to keep his image, but the pressure before was no longer weighing it down. Rather, it transferred itself into his cerebrum. The words just spoken casted over his head in anxious anticipation.
What did she mean before?
It never once occurred to Coriolanus that Dr. Gaul had more assistants before him. With how much praise she spoke about him to others, calling him her ‘victor’; his high off the approval blinded him from ever looking too deeply into Gaul’s own history. She knew so much about him, but he hardly knew anything intimate about her. Was this assistant from a long past? Someone that spurned her, and flipped the switch in her mind. Or just a low-level employee that couldn’t rise to her expectations. Coriolanus knew Dr. Gaul wasn’t done just yet, seeing how her hand had moved to the file so carefully placed on her side of the table. Dragging the folder closer to her, the sound of the manila folder being dragged against the rich, wooden table. Curiosity beckoned at him, however, he only placed the muslin cloth on his own side. Placing it down on the table, he reached out to pick up his coffee instead to drink. This was just another game for her. Fitting for her title as Head Gamemaker. If he was to take her seat when she retired, he’d need to learn to play just as well. And that started by giving Dr. Gaul the bare minimum of what she wanted.
“How do you feel about the subject of pets?” She opened Subject A01’s folder, her fingers flicking through pages held together by a single paperclip.
“In general, or something specific you have in mind?”
She should save her spiel of human versus animal to the lecture hall, not the Citadel labs. If Gaul could step away from the foreplay and get onto her main point, that’d be fantastic. They both had limited time.
“Just curious, considering you have such an aptitude for taking care of them.” Fingers stopped moving through the pages. Off-colored eyes rose up from the file, properly, to gaze at him.
Of course, she knew.
Thankfully, his body didn’t flinch. Rather, he remained seated in his leather stool. Arms crossed over each other, one hand holding his coffee, his legs slightly spread out, holding her stare passively. Yet, under his skin, it was like a match striking against a fuse. Something lit his veins on fire. Coriolanus could feel the muscle under his flesh being so warm. Was it fear? Adrenaline? He hoped it didn’t show through. Pulling at the tendons of his jaw, his lips pulled back to show his own set of canines. Coriolanus smiled at Dr. Gaul.
“What let you on?”
It wasn’t an outright admittance to guilt. He’d rather not say anything specific in case Gaul was accusing him of something else.
“When the dog hopes it’s someone else walking in.”
“Is that so?” His laugh sounded so delighted, it almost surprised him. It felt nearly genuine. Was it genuine?
How strange. Hearing that Project Prometheus was now so eager for his presence, that it started to act less excited around its ‘caretaker’... The confirmation that it was him that it liked being around most… A warm bloom of pride surged through his chest. He had done that. He was affecting them. How long would it be now until Project Prometheus started referring to him with a familial label? It already was talking about him with others who cared to listen. Right now, he should feel terrified. His boss caught him interacting with a rebel prisoner outside of his assigned tasks, he was surely going to be chewed out. Yet, all Coriolanus felt was a sick glee that tempted him to bounce the heels of his shoes, knowing what’d he done. What he accomplished in such little time. It almost made him forget everything else before. Almost. Maybe he was right to place his bets on having the subject be his new stress-ball. After work, he’d make sure of his visit to Project Prometheus.
Dr. Gaul joined in on his laughter.
“You’re quite the twisted man, ‘Dr. Snow’,” She waggled that wretched finger in his direction. It made his skin crawl to hear her refer in the same manner as the subject. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. By all means, I encourage you to explore further,”
Ears picked up on a familiar set of letters; Dr. Gaul called the subject by its name. He raised his eyebrows at it, but made no verbal cue to question it. Project Prometheus was affectionate to a degree with Dr. Gaul; did Dr. Gaul reciprocate similar sentiments?
“It’s cerebrum, as you expertly noted…,” Call it by a name, but still refer to it as if it was only a thing. “Its hippocampus suffers a bit due to the stress regulation from the pFC,” The prefrontal cortex. “But, as a result, leaves the Project akin to a batch of fresh clay. Easily influenced, and susceptible to any new stimuli.” Dr. Gaul closes the file between her hands. Outstretching her arm, she extended the report over to Coriolanus’s end of the table, she was inviting him to take it into his own hands. And who was he to deny her request. Placing his coffee back on the table, he took the manila folder into his hands, and proceeded to open it on his end. His hands flicked through the pages, seeing the most recent update. The pain scale, the number five on it circled on it. His signature now tucked away and marked within the prisoner’s file. Coriolanus traced his clean nails on black ink. He was now part of this project. He made his first mark.
That familiar feeling of pride escalated again.
“I’ll still be an overseer, but… I’m curious as to what your influence will do to it. You must make any observations, notes, all of it.”
Well, that feels a bit voyeuristic. Has she always been so eager to lend away her mutts?
Dr. Gaul grabbed his chin with a light touch. Forcing his focus away from the slightly stained papers and back to her, where her gloved thumb gently stroked his jaw. The trail of sensations that her own hand left behind made his skin prickle under his layers of clothes. Her touch was sickening as it was caring, leaving Coriolanus unable to decide if he should lean in, or pull away from her touch. So, he remained pliant. Letting her take the lead.
“I made you into my victor. I want to see what you make Project Prometheus into.”
He desperately wanted to see it too, Dr. Gaul.
Reality was, there was no end product in his mind. All he knew was simple, base desires. To use the subject to stroke his own personal ego. Coriolanus didn’t know what would happen at the end. Did he honestly even care? If it ended up better, or worse, it didn’t matter. The subject would still be in Lab C09, sitting idly all alone on the exam table until someone took it out of its misery. Maybe that was it. Dr. Gaul wanted him to put all his effort into shaping Project Prometheus into something worthwhile; then, put it down like a dog after he was done. The thought of it made something deep within the confines of his ribs itch. He wanted to scratch at it.
What a merciless, cruel thing to do.
But, something exactly right in Gaul’s alley. Shame, what a waste of resources. The Citadel had the money to burn, Coriolanus guessed. It was an inconvenience on his end, though. He’d have to go and find a new stress-toy after this project was done. Hopefully, this wouldn’t become a pattern in the future.
“When I bring the results to you, what happens? Does the project end?”
The steady thrum of machinery flowing through the Citadel’s walls was deafening. Straining his ears just enough, he could make out the brief sounds of employee shoes walking past the open lab doors. The leather soles squeaking and tapping against sleek flooring. Painted, red lips smiled, but this was different. So empty and void of any perverse glee, it almost surprised Coriolanus.
“The project doesn’t end until there’s nothing left to reap.”
Until she got bored. That’s all his ringing ears could make of.
If he were to control its lifespan; something would have to be done to keep Gaul’s intrigue up. Proposals for new ideas, possibilities, he’d have to draft them up. Coriolanus felt like he was back in the Academy all over again, writing essays and prompts for Dr. Gaul to read. Later, he’d need to remind himself to call an Avox. Give them the errand to go buy him a ‘do not bother’ sign to hang in his home office. He was going to need it for all the brainstorming he was going to do whenever Livia dropped by.
“That’s why, I think I’ll have you conduct another exam. Don’t worry about your other tasks, I’ll have someone else take care of it.”
Dr. Gaul was too kind. Saving him the trouble of making time out of his day to visit Lab C09.
“You remember last time, I had you do a test on the subject’s external pain receptors, right?” He doesn’t think he could ever forget such an experience. “Today, I want you to do an exam on its internal pain receptors.”
Coriolanus blinked.
Internal?
Did she mean conducting an exam on its insides?
Coriolanus prayed it was something more specific. Internal was just too broad of a subject. There was so much going on in the inside of a living being, it’d be almost dizzying to focus on every single nerve ending that each part had. The digestive system, the endocrine system, pons, medulla, the list can go on. A touch of fear sprouted out the back of his head; the real possibility that Gaul may just ask him to perform an exam on the entire internal structure of the subject. The entailing of all that blood and mess. He pitied the custodians that’d have to clean up after him. He must’ve surely pulled a face, a grimace perhaps, as Dr. Gaul’s eyes lit up in amusement. Letting go of his chin, she smacked against his cheek lightly in her mocking laugh. Coriolanus only half-enthusiastically joined in, still hesitant on the whole prospect. And a bit offended at the casual slap.
“Have you ever done an exam like this before, Coryo?”
“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure, no.”
The University offered cadavers from the Districts to examine and explore in open lab hours, sure. But, there was a difference between a corpse and a living thing. A cadaver didn’t squirm when he poked and prodded at it with a scalpel and toothed forceps. Well. Project Prometheus was a five now in its external sensitivity scale, so maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. Coriolanus thought back to the cake he brought in for Project Prometheus. Would the subject even be able to eat anything before, or after the operation? He didn’t want to risk aspiration during the operation and they’d likely pass out after he was done. Coriolanus wanted to suck his teeth. He brought the cheesecake for no reason at all then! God, he needed another sip of his coffee.
“You’ll be a natural. It’ll be just as similar as the exam before, just…” Bright eyes rolled to the side, her tongue paused. She was tasting the word on it. “Messier.” Finishing it off with a rich chuckle, wiggling her nasty fingers against the air to put a bit of ‘pizzazz’ to it..
Coriolanus frowned a bit deeper..
“Usually, this is something I handle, but, considering recent developments between you and the prisoner; why not let you take the reins?”
He supposed.
Better him than Dr. Gaul, right?
The sight would be like a nightmare if Project Prometheus gazed up, flesh open, and the first thing they saw was the horrific grin of Gaul. Coriolanus could understand in that sense, why he should be the one performing the operation. It dubbed him with the ‘gentle hands’; unlike Gaul. Citadel cameras only knew how cruel Dr. Gaul can be when handling the prisoner’s insides. She probably gripped exposed tissue and sinew with her bare gloves. He’d only use the medical instruments that were best appropriate, when exploring around. Yes, it was definitely better that he was the one doing this.
“I understand.” Sighing in ‘defeat’. “I’ll do my best to make you proud.”
Gaul’s smile stretched wider when he said that. It pulled at the muscles of her cheeks, making her eyes squint and crinkle.
“You always do, Coryo. If you need any guidance, instructions are written inside the report.”
Covered knees knocked against his own in a brief, playful manner, his legs retracting back quickly from its stretched position. Dr. Gaul turned her seat back around to face her desk. Already, grabbing at another case file to look at; she took the discarded, uncapped pen that laid on the side. She shooed him away with her hand.
“Off you go. You can leave your things here, if you’d like.”
Not even going to walk him to the elevator? And he thought Gaul and him had something special.
Obediently, Coriolanus raised up from the stool, the leather cushion whining from it. Closing the manila folder, he tucked it under his arm and placed his coffee on the table. Spreading out his belongings around his side of the desk, he wanted to get a clear grasp of what he had. What was going to be needed, while he would be toiling away in Lab C09 for who knows how long. There was his Citadel Work ID, his keys, his coffee ( he didn’t trust leaving his drink unattended with Dr. Gaul ), the lab key, and… His hand hovered over the carrier, the one made of white cardboard that held the cheesecake. Coriolanus was still unsure if today was even possible, responsible, to give Project Prometheus this. Knowing what was to be done, there was no promise that he’d come back with an empty carrier. A slight twinge ached deep in his chest, the feeling of it lightly suffocating. An irritating sensation. He conditioned Project Prometheus to expect sweets from him; how sad would it be if he showed up empty-handed?
Coriolanus thought about it.
Had he… ever seen Project Prometheus disappointed? It talked about feeling it, when Gaul would be silent, or ignore them. But, he’s never seen it. That smothering sensation from before began to ebb away. It made his imagination go wild, trying to imagine the subject’s sad face. Would it twist ugly? Would it pout, biting its chapped bottom lip, try to hold back a tear? Or become more withdrawn, silent and moody? Coriolanus wanted to know. Fingers curled around the handles of the carrier, pulling it up from the table. From the corner of his eye, Coriolanus noticed Dr. Gaul take in his action curiously. The sound of pen etching on paper stopped. With only a smile, he waved a free hand goodbye to her:
“I’ll be back, Dr. Gaul.”
And off he went, taking himself to the darkened corners of the lab where the elevator was tucked and hidden away. Greeted by the recognizable sight of sterile, stainless metal, he pressed his finger down on the button for the lower levels. The harsh, red light brimming brightly under his touch. With a ding to cut through the air, the elevator doors open almost immediately for Coriolanus. Bright, white lights flooding out, but it could only light up the dark corners of Lab H05 so much. It barely reached out to even three feet outside the door. Taking his step in, he pulled the familiar key Dr. Gaul had given him just a month prior. The key to Lab C09. After the first day, Coriolanus took it upon himself to clean it as best he could. It was his key now, so he tried scraping off as much rust and dried blood as he could. The key was still a rancid, dark color, but at the very least, it no longer felt so textured. With the key still warm in his palm, he inserted it into the elevator’s panel, twisting until the latch popped upon. He pressed for C09’s floor.
In the meantime, Coriolanus opened Subject A01’s folder. Leaning against the wall of the elevator, one foot crossed over the other, he shifted his belongings into comfortable holdings in his arms. Flipping through the pages, he tried looking to see if Dr. Gaul left a sticky note giving him instructions. She had done it for him last time, so it wasn’t outlandish for him to expect another. But, no. Nothing of the sort. A heavy breath deeply sighed from his nose. How was he supposed to be a ‘natural’ when he had no guide to what he was doing? Fingers flicked through the pages quickly, looking for anything to give him a clue on what he was supposed to do. Maybe he needed to look back at previous updates. Heading back to the early pages, Coriolanus’s eyes flitted around until he found it. There. Tucked behind a faded, pale blue divider; labeled under:
PROJECT PROMETHEUS’S EXPLORATORY LAPAROTOMY
OVERSEER & SURGEON: DR. VOLUMNIA GAUL
The date was recorded back from two years ago. Meaning that the subject’s NTRK1 gene was still under foreign modifications. Coriolanus, for a second, felt a bit hesitant. But, only for just a second. He flipped back the divider, and what did he know? His guess was right. There was Gaul’s written report on the side, what he wanted to read in the first place, but the photos… Numerous that were held onto the report in various placings, held on by rusted paperclips. He could recognize the subject by mere beauty marks, the same ones he traced with ink just a month beforehand. The photos were visceral. Subject A01’s bicipital aponeurosis, extensor retinaculum, patella, lateral malleolus, and sternohyoid were tied down to the operating table by tight, black leather straps and buckles. There were bright splotches of purple and red, areas where the bounded limbs had started to bruise, or bleed. Or both. Coriolanus wasn’t sure if this was caused by struggle before the operation began, or during. He was inclined to believe during. As in each photo that displayed its most intimate internal makings, where the rectus sheath had been peeled back and spread out, the subject’s eyes were still open. It did not look at the camera. How could it? Dark irises gazed listlessly off to the side, reddened orbital adipose to suggest dried tears but, he could still make out a faint sheen to suggest it hadn’t finished drying just yet. So much of the subject’s blood was shown in each photo, splatters that no doubt made it to the operation floor. Most likely from both Dr. Gaul’s indifference, and for the subject putting too much of a fight.
Thankfully, he wouldn’t be dealing with that today.
The subject’s cerebrum had been altered far too much to be in the same state it was in the beginning. Or, at least he hoped it was. Coriolanus let out another heavy sigh, his eyes leaving away from the photos to read the report Dr. Gaul had written.
“06/30/XX
Patient Name: ⏹⏹⏹⏹ ‘SUBJECT A01: PROJECT PROMETHEUS’
Patient ID: ⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹⏹
Objective: Assessment of Internal Pain Receptors
First Exploratory Laparotomy conducted.
Subject had to be forcibly escorted out of their room by Peacekeepers ⏹⏹⏹⏹ and ⏹⏹⏹, to the Examination room. Attempted to assault Peacekeeper ⏹⏹⏹⏹, subject was forced down onto the Operation table to be restrained. Administered drug ⏹⏹⏹ and ⏹⏹⏹⏹ to avoid need for an endotracheal tube & general anesthesia during surgery.
To be able to accurately record the fluctuation in Subject A01’s internal nerve system, the subject must remain conscious throughout the entire procedure. While examining each organ, a timer is a set for every ten minutes to gauge how the subject is feeling, if the scale is changing, or if it is still conscious. Exam ends when the subject is no longer responsive.
Subject was only able to withstand thirty minutes of the operation before passing out entirely. Was difficult in communications, did not respond properly when asked. Had to lean in multiple times to listen to the subject, and could barely hear it between fits of crying. Currently listed at a 10 for pain tolerance–”
Coriolanus stared at the block of text.
Having the exam run until the subject passed out felt a bit overkill. Just how long would he be staying in Lab C09? The first operation was thirty minutes, with the average pain scale of 10. Project Prometheus was now a 5 in the pain scale. They handled the external nerve exam completely conscious, but that was just needles poking and prodding their skin. How long could they last now, with their organs on full display and his surgeon tools prodding around? But… Coriolanus reminded himself; this project is their punishment for rebelling. So, he could understand why the procedure was conducted in such a manner. He shifted the weight of his posture, crossing one leg over the other. The warmth from before, from under the stifling layers of his winter wear, still had yet to completely fade away. It made him just the slightest bit uncomfortable still, knowing there were faint traces of heat still radiating from him. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to sweat through his button up.
The familiar ding cut through the silence. Instinctively, Coriolanus closed the manila folder as if on command, tucking it under his arm. Lab C09’s natural rusted, nauseous smell welcomed him in. Stepping past the doors of the elevator and into the floor, he needed no guidance to take him where he needed to be. He was well intimate enough with the layout of the structure. Well, the more ‘medically functional’ areas. Project Prometheus’s room was still something he had yet to visit, but that was something to see for another day. The messy bloodstain on the floor was still there, not yet cleaned up. Now that he was ‘in charge’ of Project Prometheus, he supposed he could make the order to clean this up. Yet, something about it felt so familiar to him. It was one of the first things he saw when he first entered Lab C09. Maybe it was Project Prometheus’s first waking moment in Lab C09, too. When they had attempted to escape out of the Peacekeepers’ grasp and make a dash for the elevator. Reaching the corridor hall doors, he greeted the current guards on duty, a brief hello and a curt nod before entering the new hall.
Back where he was on that day, back at the start.
Coriolanus moved his feet, standing where he assumed he first was, when he first entered here. The large glass window that encompassed one side of the hall, where he stood and got his first glimpse of the subject. It wasn’t quite right, he wasn’t so close to the other side of the wall; but, neither was the other side of the glass. To any other eye, the change wasn’t too noticeable. Small difference of details. But, Coriolanus noticed the change immediately. His blue eyes dragged up towards the empty space of wall hooks that once carried the room’s surgical tools. They used to hang up so high, just out of reach so the subject didn’t try to reach for it themselves on its own time. But, there they were. Next to the center of the room, the surgical tools had been placed neatly on a large, rolling surgical tray that was beside them.
Subject A01, Project Prometheus.
Coriolanus’s breath felt a bit heavy, difficult to take in. All he could focus on now was the sight of them, taking in their form. It still hadn’t noticed him, a pleasing change of pace from before. They were seated, as it was expected to do, on what used to be the examination table. The leather cushions that covered it had been removed, revealing the sleek, stainless steel operation table that was hidden underneath the comforting material. Coriolanus took small, quiet steps further, careful as to not alert it. Project Prometheus had a penchant for being the observant type. The subject was sitting mostly upright, but there was a slight slouch to its shoulders. Arms brought forward, its hands pushed between the small space of its thighs. Bare legs dangled off the edge of the table, stitches decorating the expanse of skin. It still had some remnants of bandages wrapped around, particularly around the left brachialis area and its right lateral malleolus, tight and clean. The subject’s dark irises stayed down on the gritty, tiled floor; not bothering to look around.
Project Prometheus still hadn’t acknowledged him yet.
He didn’t know if it was on purpose, or purely accidental on its part; but he understood one thing. And it was the familiar lick of irritation that touched him. What was so different here? All he needed to do was breathe wrong and the subject honed in on him like a hawk. Has something happened? Was Dr. Gaul wrong in her assumption of the subject favoring him? Did he need to condition Project Prometheus longer than he anticipated? The fun of being a passive observer had worn off, the longer he gazed at them. He needed Project Prometheus to look at him, to focus on him. Fingers tapped on the glass lightly, a significant difference, a restraint, from the buildup dwelling inside him. A distinct sound was made, enough for the subject to snap its head up.
For Project Prometheus to look at him.
It stared at him with such wide eyes, their slightly reddened, chapped lips slightly agape in a small ‘o’ shape. There was a small kick and sway to their dangling feet, now. For a brief second, he saw the subject’s eyes dart quickly to the box carrier in his hands before focusing back up on him. The muscles of his cheeks started to pull back into a grin.
Exactly what he wanted.
Satisfaction easily oozed into him, embarrassingly so. But, he got what he was looking for. Project Prometheus’s eyes were now solely on him, not off in some dissociative mindscape.
Coriolanus gave them a wave through the glass, mouthing to them: ‘I’ll be in soon’ before stepping away and further down into the hall corridor, where the examination room door was. Taking the surgical uniform that hung beside the Peacekeeper keeping guard, Coriolanus placed his belongings down to the side to put the attire on. Slipping the surgical gown, cap, goggles, and tightening the gloves onto him, his blood was running high. Coriolanus couldn’t fathom why. Maybe it was the nerves. In just a few moments, he’s going to head in there, break its heart about giving them no dessert, tell them he’s here for an exam, then perform a gruesome operation on them to add the cherry on top. All of it was nerve-wracking. They seemed to be quite obedient, but who's to say this wouldn’t be their final straw? And if they accepted it, taking his surgical exploration with no objection? The bones in his hands only felt like formality, with how much fight he was doing to just keep them steady.
There was so much blood he could feel running through his veins.
“I’ll be conducting an operation today, keep your ears alert for anything unusual.”
The metal door moved open from its tight seal, Coriolanus stepping through before it closed behind heavily with a hefty thud. Muted sounds of bare feet touching the floor; the patter careful to make a noise above a pin drop, slowing down to just a whisper. And then, falling entirely into silence.
“Good morning, Dr. Snow.”
There it was.
Their presence, it was just a few ways behind him. It was faint, and hard to realize at times, but he was getting accustomed to it. Unlike others, where there was a palpable weight to the space they took up in the air, Project Prometheus’s presence was noticed through feelings in the gut. Intuition, maybe. But, Coriolanus could pick out on how whenever the subject was near, his blood would run so cold, yet the adrenaline in his veins made his heartbeat beat faster than ever. It felt almost primal, savagery at its finest. Reduced to relying on his own bodily instincts and survival skills to learn more about a mutt kept behind bars.
“Subject A01,” He called out pleasantly. His restraint was being kept taut on a leash.
Coriolanus smiled behind his surgical mask, turning his body around to finally look at the subject and not the dreary door. There, they stood before him, hands awkwardly stood at their sides, clad in the same thin patient gown. They must’ve been cold sitting almost bare on the operating table. The subject gazed at his gloved hands immediately, after only just briefly looking at his own eyes. There was only the project report and his coffee in his hands. He decided it was best to leave the carrier outside. For a second, he watched how Project Prometheus's stare was unchanged, nothing to indicate on their expression that something had gone wrong in their mind. But, he knew. Coriolanus could feel the slight shift in the air, the dejection Project Prometheus was feeling at the lack of a sweet reward. If their eyes would not say anything, it was their body. The slight shift of weight, and scarred fingers twiddling at the ends of their gown.
His grin widened under his surgical mask.
“Good morning, is everything alright?” He leaned down his head a bit, showing faux worry.
Project Prometheus bit the bottom of their lip briefly, a flush of rosy hues along the cracked surface from the pressure. Coriolanus's eyes traced the spark of color on the overall gray appearance of the subject, almost engrossing him entirely. It is an absolute wonder what a splash of color could do to enhance even the most unsightly.
“... No, everything is alright.”
Was he dreaming, or was there the subtle carry of a pout in their tone? Ohhh, he was living such a high! “And you can call me by my name, Dr. Snow.” They both know that wasn’t going to happen. But, he supposed there were remnants of a naive idealist in its unconscious mind. It forgot all the important details, and kept the worst info.
Taking a step forward, Project Prometheus took no step backward from him. Rather, it craned its neck up, where he stood towering over them. Fingers stopped in its fidgeting, trying to meet his stare through the difference in height. His body made a shadow over its small frame, blocking out the nauseous, overhead lights. Coriolanus stretched a hand over, touching the region of the subject’s infraspinatus with the flat of his gloved palm. Project Prometheus did not tense under his touch. He leaned down.
“Could you wait for me at the operation table?” Words came out just slightly above a whisper, never once breaking eye contact with the subject. He spoke it sweetly, an illusion of a suggestion, disguising a command.
Project Prometheus was silent.
An impatient tick poked at him. Was it even listening to him, or was it trying to disassociate?
“So, it is an operation today.”
No, they removed the examination cushions for laundry day.
“Yes, it is. Will that be a problem?” It better not.
The subject fell into silence once more. Its hands shifted from its sides to the anterior, playing with the front of its dress. The ends of thin fabric was in between its fingers, the slight rise of it, had he bent down, there was no doubt he would see clear peeks of the subject’s lower half. With his brows furrowed, he could feel his throat run a bit dry. He had a drink, but it feels wrong right now to take a taste. As if anything else would ruin… whatever this was. Coriolanus shifted the weight of his posture.
“... Have I done something to upset you, Dr. Snow?”
… What was Project Prometheus trying to play here?
Is… Is this some form of attempt at pacification? Play with the patient gown, try to flash him, and hope he bends over backwards? Regardless, the fear of losing Dr. Gaul’s respect over something so juvenile was far more humiliating than whatever… this was. It brought on a trickled feeling that ran inside his throat, something that made his ears burn. Maybe it was embarrassment he felt for the subject. Or for himself, for having to deal with this so early. Placing his hand over it, the fingers were still continuing to fidget. Gripping the appendages under his gloved grasp, quickly, he put a stop to the movement.
“Enough.” Coriolanus gave an extra squeeze on its hand for emphasis. The subject stopped moving. Alright, that eases him up a bit.
“There’s nothing you’ve done wrong,” He could argue for some, but he’ll save it for another day. “Today is only the internal nerve exam. Dr. Gaul asked me to conduct it in her place instead,” Unconsciously, he didn’t know why, but his thumb started to rub soothing circles on the back of Project Prometheus’s hand. Something that Tigris had done for him, when he needed comfort as kids. But, this didn’t hold the same warmth. The subject’s hand’s too cold for that, and his gloves offered nothing.
“I promise to be kind with this.” Whispering, so that a soft voice would be the final kick for Project Prometheus to behave.
“Okay… I trust you, Dr. Snow.”
A terrible choice, really.
Coriolanus almost snorted, but he stopped himself with a smile, communicating with how his eyes squinted slightly along the pull of muscle. He stopped his thumb, removing his hand off the subject’s before giving a light touch on their shoulder. A simple gesture for it to go back to the operation table, to which it followed. Attentively, his eyes followed the back of it. Never would he dare to take off his gaze until he finally heard the small squeaking sound of Project Prometheus lifting itself on the table, sitting itself fully on the stainless steel. Last time, his eyes left the subject, it gave him a heart attack moments after. The subject caught his stare, and rather than call him out for it, question him, it spoke:
“I’ll wait right here for you.”
Did it know his apprehension?
Coriolanus wasn’t sure whether to be pleased, or disturbed. On one hand, the subject was following orders. The other hand, there’s a very real chance his facade wasn’t as good as he thinks it is. No, it can’t be that. It shouldn’t be. He worried his bottom lip between incisors, shifting to head towards the shelves of drugs and medical equipment. Dr. Gaul managed to see through him earlier this morning, and he knows ( he knows! ) Livia caught the envy he felt when she showed him Tigris’s sketch. There wasn't anything wrong with him. There’s something in the air today, that’s wrong here. He just needed to fix that, gain back control. Just needed to take deep breaths, he has everything under his control right now. Putting the report and coffee down on the shelves, Coriolanus pulled the small, glass bottle of anticoagulant, clean syringes, sternum wires, and the modified anesthesia out in front of him. As all surgical instruments had been placed out beforehand already, all he needed now was the roll of polymer fibers for the sutures later. Traditionally, black has been the norm. It's on the subject right now. Gloved fingers brushed against the barrel of the roll, in thought. Then, put the roll back in place, shoving past to reach another corner to the shelf. Feeling the weight of it, he grabbed it. A roll of red polymer fibers.
Dr. Gaul’s handiwork, her mark, were those black stitches.
So shouldn’t his mark be something more striking? Would it not show as dazzling proof of his first operation?
“Thank you for being patient,” Bringing the materials over, Coriolanus placed them evenly spaced on the surgical tray before him. “Do you remember how this procedure goes?” He wanted to make sure this wasn’t placed in the shredder of its amnesia. If they didn’t remember the previous times, he’ll make sure it remembers this one.
“I think so,” Its dark eyes followed his hands, watching him as he took the syringe between his fingers and the anticoagulant in another hand. Pressing the bevel down through the cap of the bottle, and then taking his thumb to pull the plunger up. The barrel of the syringe starts to fill up decently with a semi-transparent liquid, the color slightly askew with a slight yellow tint. Project Prometheus pointed at it. “That’s what Dr. Gaul uses to thin my blood,” He rinses and repeats the process with the modified anesthesia. The subject pointed at the next one. “And that’s to keep me conscious, right?”
Coriolanus blinked blandly at them.
“How observant of you, I’m sure Dr. Gaul would be impressed that you remembered.” Coriolanus coolly replies. He didn’t mean it as a compliment, but Project Prometheus’s legs dangled a bit more in rhythm at it. He didn’t want to ask further. Dr. Gaul most likely told them all that, but he never knew when it came to the subject. They always managed to surprise him, somehow.
And he hated them for that.
“Can you stand up for me, please.” Project Prometheus got off smoothly from the table, placing both feet down and craning the muscle of its semispinalis capitis up to look at him properly. The tips of his leather shoes stood mere centimeters away from its bare distals. Already, he had placed down the filled syringes to the side. He swallowed down some access that started to gather inside his mouth before speaking. “Turn around.” Obediently, it turned its body around, the back of its thin, patient gown in front of him. The sheer material, kept together by two ties of strands around the splenius capitis and thoracolumbar fascia region. It always looked so flimsy to him. His gloved hand reached to touch the knot that wrapped its waist-line, trailing along the flimsy string. Coriolanus started to untie it.
“... Dr. Snow?”
“It’s just faster if I do this,” Speaking it, he can’t fathom why, but it felt like his words were trying to reassure him. That saying it aloud made it real. He doesn’t know why. It is real. If you want it done right, do it yourself; Coriolanus knows it better than anyone, and that’s what he’s doing. This is just him controlling the situation at hand.
“I’ll help you, then.”
No, it doesn’t need to do that, it can just – Its fingers reached up to start undoing the tie around its neck region. If he acted just as wild as he was feeling, he’d be tempted to bite away the stitched fingers for disobeying him ( seeing as how his own hands were too occupied to pull the subject’s hand away ). Instead, he settled with a slight scolding tone when he spoke while he still continued to untie, not bothering to look up from what his hands were doing. If he looked up, he'd be stuck anxiously watching it fumble around. “That’s not necessary, I got everything under control.” It’d be nice if it could, you know, follow that. One moment, they are pliant and willing to do what he says. The next, they are moving around without his permission, doing whatever it feels like. Whenever he senses like he’s getting closer to having Project Prometheus under his grasp, following the steps that he’s laid out, they instantly slip from his fingers. It makes him feel almost insane trying to put them back in his hand.
“But, I like helping you.”
The knot in his gloved grasp fell loose.
“Really?” His voice came a bit more hoarse than he’d like, clearing his throat a bit.
The fabric around the waist had loosened, revealing the bare skin of the subject’s lower half. Lifting his hands away, it seemed if he lingered his hands longer it felt like he was treading something dangerous. Unpredictable. Project Prometheus’s volatile behavior might just be contagious, he feared. Standing so close to them like this, whatever odd energy they carried, it was trying ( and failing ) to disrespectfully invade his. Shoes making a slight sound, Coriolanus took a few steps back to give Project Prometheus some room. Their fingers finally finished fiddling with the top knot. Just like a disappearing act, the gown fell to the floor, pooling around its feet. The subject stepped out from it, gently pushing the fabric to the side with their distals. Wow, so well-trained.
“I do, you’re always so nice to me.” Not after he finishes this trauma-inducing of an operation, he thought. Eyes transfixed, Project Prometheus never left his sight, moving to sit back onto the Operation with a push up from their arms. “So, I want to help you in ways I can.” They leaned back, kicking their feet under the table, peering back at him from under their lashes.
Was Project Prometheus’s eyelashes always so thick? After all this time in captivity? Their family must be agonizing over such a good batch of genes wasted.
“Thank you,” The words came out softly. “For being so good with me.” Trying to steady the loud thrumming of his veins, Coriolanus reached over his hand to the surgical tray, taking the first syringe in his hands. The thick, dark liquid jostling, catching the reflections of the ugly, overhead lights. The needle gleamed. The directions in where his blood moved felt too transparent, too obvious. An uncomfortable sensation of how… aware he felt regarding his body. And a complete lack of control to make it stop.
“Please, crane your head down for me.”
He needed it to stop.
Compliant, the subject kneeled their head down, brushing their hair to the side. Seamlessly, he pressed the needle in. Pressing the plunger down, watching until the entirety of the barrel emptied itself out. Project Prometheus remained still, as he continued on with the next syringe. Taking a cotton ball, he dabbed it with isopropyl alcohol. He gingerly rubbed the cotton over the injection sites, before placing gauze over it. A quiet thank you was whispered softly under Project Prometheus’s breath.
He took a small breath in.
Placing a gloved hand over the subject trapezius region, another on the deltoid. Just only the slightest of push, and the subject understood his gesture. Bringing their legs up to the table, they adjusted their position to lay down on the cold, steel table, holding onto his own hands for support. Their hair haloed around their head in uneven strokes, spread out. Despite the lights completely over their entire body, their eyes barely reflected any of it. Instead, they were peering at him, focused on him. Their hands still haven’t left his. Were they nervous?
“Is everything alright?” He asked.
“... Can you speak to me?”
Coriolanus blinked. He was a bit taken aback.
“Speak to you? Aren’t I doing that right now?”
The subject shaked their head minimally. “No, not that. I mean during the operation; can you speak to me?” Their fingers tightened at the fabric of his gloves, crinkling the material. “Dr. Gaul doesn’t get very talkative when she performs operations on me, so it makes the whole thing a bit hard to ignore sometimes.” That’s the point, it’s a torture sentence. “If that’s okay with you, Dr. Snow.” He wondered if the subject was comfortable making requests to Dr. Gaul just as much as it did with him.
Sharing a stare with the subject, they both held onto the silence.
Coriolanus breathed out.
“Fine, but it’ll strictly be in regards to the operation, only. Nothing else,”
For a slight moment, he didn’t know if it was a trick of his eyes, or real, but Coriolanus could’ve sworn he saw a brief glimpse of light dancing in the subject’s dark eyes. A droopy, half attempt of a small smile on their lips. Chapped lips spread, showing minimal cracks between dried layers of skin and small winks of their pointed cuspids. He felt the air stop for a moment.
“Thank you,”
Before releasing their hands from him and laying down flat against the table.
Coriolanus adjusted the gloves back to proper fitting, stretched the latex-leather evenly. Moving slightly away from the operation table, he went over to pull over the mobile floor standing lights closer. Hanging the operating lights at just the right angle over, he placed one hand over the subject’s eyes while his other went to flick on the lights. Quietly, Project Prometheus laid. A change of pace, but most definitely attributed to the modified anesthesia he administered now kicking in. With everything in its place, it was all ready to start. He prayed to whatever was out there, that cadaver dissections in class would be enough to carry him through the entire operation. And if not…
He’ll take whatever large stacks of paperwork Dr. Gaul had waiting for him after he was done putting the subject in the morgue.
If Dr. Gaul was kind enough to let Project Prometheus have a moment in the morgue.
Taking the scalpel within his hand, the gleam of the sterile steel refracted against the various angles of light. He pressed one hand against Project Prometheus against their ribcage.
“Take steady breaths,” He needed them for himself, too. Coriolanus breathed in sync with the rising and falling of the subject’s pectoralis major. “Perfect, now, on, 1, 2… “
And in his scalpel went.
A smooth dip in, evenly slicing through the top of the subject’s angle of louis; all the way down to the lowest part of their rectus sheath. A dark crimson streak leaking, steadily trailing after the drag of his knife. Ways from him, a small, almost quiet intake of breath was heard beside him. He almost missed it. So, the sensations already begin. But, thankfully, for now, no bodily squirming. Good, his nerves were already on edge about needing to make a careful incision. He wasn’t really interested in stopping right now to get up and put restraints on the subject. It would be uncomfortable on both ends. And the sounds so far, haven’t been… displeasing, to say the least. Not as bad as Livia sounded early this morning, so small wins for him to take in.
Taking a breath of his own, Coriolanus continued, pressing in the scalpel a bit deeper with the slightest pressure from his hand. Another intake of breath from Project Prometheus. The pitch almost stops him in his ministrations. It didn’t scream, nor did it let out a pained groan. The sound was airy. Blood ran wildly through his ears, the adrenaline picking itself up once more. Coriolanus felt his breath take on a small weight, a bit heavy in his mask as he eased back down his heart from the sudden sound. Again, fine. As long as it didn’t move. The scalpel sliced down past the rectus abdominis, past the subcutaneous tissue, until it touched the sternum. Hearing another quiet gasp of breath come from Project Prometheus, a small splatter of blood hit back up at him. It freckled around the ends of his surgical mask. The subject’s distals flexed a bit, to restrain itself from moving an inch. The blood reminded him of how sweltering the layers of medical wear felt on him right now, tight and restrictive.
He can’t stop now.
“How are you feeling?”
He hadn’t reached the moment where he could start recording for the internal exam, but suppose it wouldn’t hurt to check in. The scalpel continued to move, so that the peel back of flesh would be more clean and effective.
“... I… I’m fine…”
Oh, less talkative?
“… Around a 6… right now. Like… feeling something… unusual, a… and new.” Descriptions, too? Oh, they were being so good for him. This gives more to fluff up in his report after. The subject took steady breath between words, but nothing that seemed to indicate excruciating pain just yet. Rather, it felt like they were trying to speak through small discomfort. Should he look up to see what expression was on its face right now?
“You’re doing great at staying still.”
He licked his lips briefly, wetting them in concentration. Placing the scalpel down behind him on the surgical tray, he reached over to grab at the surgical rakes. Taking it between his fingers, he carefully dipped the rake past the crevice of an incision he made. “Stay strong for me and just keep taking steady breaths for me, okay?” Project Prometheus took a sharp intake of breath. Coriolanus had it dig into the first layer of skin, puncturing and pulling the skin back. The subject’s distals curled. Hooking the rake onto a handle of the operating table, he made sure it was kept in place. He rinsed and repeated with the other side. Coriolanus let out a small puff of air from his lips, inexplicably enraptured with the sight now laid before him. With the thin barrier now taken away, Coriolanus could see more clearly, the layers of muscle that moved in tandem with the rhythm of the subject’s steady breath. Protected by the intricate makings of the subject’s thoracic cage. A morbid curiosity to touch the layers of tissue, feel the blood pump under his gloves, but he held himself back. He needed to explore other things, not this. Blue eyes fixated on the flow of blood from the subject. The stream moved in controlled fashion. A small pool of blood was dripping down the sides of the subject, but not at levels that were concerning, yet. The dark crimson color contrasted and glimmered against the nauseating overhead lights. It looked almost black in the loud, greenish-hue of the room.
Once again, proven right.
He is a far better option than Dr. Gaul. The controlled, clean view he had was such a stark contrast from the violent photos shown in the project’s folder. Coriolanus was tempted even, to break his concentration to pull for a camera and take photos himself. To show Dr. Gaul, and any other doctor after him, how an operation of this level should be held correctly. A small smile grew under his mask. Reaching for the pneumatic sternal saw, gloved hands reached down to touch the sternal periosteum. Dragging his hands down all the way to the bottom of it, feeling the ridges, a discomforted whimper fell out from Project Prometheus. He shushed them quickly.
“It’s alright. I’m going to cut into your sternum now,”
“I… I ha… have no reason to doubt you, Dr. S… Snow.”
Raising the sternal saw, the light catching against the stainless steel material, he brought it down and aimed it just right. Before pressing down on the button and watching the saw blade activate and come to life. The whirring sound of the saw cutting through bone, in the same up and down motion he had done with his hands, he led the saw down. The sound of bone against steel drowned out any sort of sharp gasps that had been pulled out from Project Prometheus. But, he could see it. The ways their fingers flexed out and then curled inwards, trying to grip at anything stabilizing. One hand closed into a fist, and another was clawing ( and failing ) to grip onto the surface of the operation table. Only succeeding in splashing their nailbeds with their own pool of blood, scraping the liquid beside them. Yet, everywhere else was only miniscule fidgeting.
Coriolanus’s smile grew.
“You’re doing so good.” Praise just above a whisper, loud enough for the subject to hear. “You’re doing so, so good right now.”
Project Prometheus gave a soft exhale, before nodding as best it could
“I..It’s a 7… Ma-Maybe a 6?” The subject whined. “D…Discomfort, l-like… cracking…. joints.” The words spoke between gasps of breath.
It was still trying its best to relay notes for him, despite it all. Coriolanus let out a sharp laugh. Something profound in him twitched. His blood felt like it was pumping all through his body at scorching temperatures, everything becoming just so loud. God, was this what Dr. Gaul feels when she runs her gruesome operations? Coriolanus understands it. He thinks he’s finally starting to understand it! For only being his first time, the operation was turning out so smoothly! To add just the cherry on top, Project Prometheus was acting so obedient for him despite the gruesome actions he was performing on its body. So malleable, so eager to please him.
His hand reached behind him, as the saw finally cut down and separated the sternum, replacing quickly the saw with a sternal retractor.
“We finally made it through the tough part.” Correction, he did. He was the one doing all the work. “You’re fantastic.” He let out another laugh.
Placing it between the broken sternum to expand and create space for him to see. To push aside the thoracic cage, and give him full, uncensored access to the expanse of Project Prometheus’s most intimate belongings. The insides of their very being. Coriolanus could see it all. The varying tones of viscera that beat and moved rhythmically to the sound of the subject’s breath. All the pulmonary veins and arteries, leading up to the main center. Bright, carmine flesh that took his breath as Coriolanus could only stare, ensnared by the muscle glistening.
The literal heart of the project.
The sound of it was horrifically deafening.
As if Project Prometheus’s heart had entered into inside him, beating right into his very own tympanic membrane. Something visceral was infecting his body. Coriolanus was sure of it. The rush of the entire procedure was all getting to his head. Unconsciously, a gasp of breath left his mouth. Like as if the quick grasp at air would do some good to help him. That it would clear the haze that was starting to settle in the wrinkles of his mind. Futile, he knows, but what else could he do to alleviate it. Against his better judgment, even if Coriolanus knew he shouldn’t, his eyes moved quickly to the side to see how the subject was holding up. It was only going to be brief, just a second. But, he froze at what he saw. His breath hitching, the inside of his mouth drying up.
The subject laid immobile against the operation table, but their head was tilted to the side. Their body seemed to try to unconsciously shift away from the overwhelming sensation, but the subject was forcing it to stay in position. And their face… Coriolanus never thought he’d see this so soon, but their face looked so different from their usual expression of apathy. A healthy flush of color was spread all over, their brows twisted and furrowed in concentration. Its cracked bottom lip worried against their incisors, but not yet hard enough to bleed. Their eyes were closed down tightly, it couldn’t see him staring at them. It couldn’t read his scrambled thoughts; understand, for a second, under the warped fluorescent lights of the examination room, Project Prometheus almost looked…
Human.
A prisoner, a walking mutation… was looking human to him.
Aesthetically pleasing to his eyes, even.
He was turning insane.
He is insane.
Dr. Gaul didn’t pick her hand around the hat and chose him as her successor because he was an ‘upstanding’ and ‘righteous’ person. He didn’t get this far by playing by the rules. She hooked her nails into him, because right now, with his gloves shimmering, covered in the blood of the subject; he could feel her shadow standing over him. Her brilliant, white teeth peeking out from the dark, grimy corners of the room, cheering him on to keep going. And Coriolanus would do anything for her approval. The movement of his gloves felt sticky, as he shifted his hand over to pull out the stopwatch from the steel tray. His gaze never leaves the delirious sight of Project Prometheus’s face. Another hand of his, reaching across Project Prometheus’s body to hold onto the edge of the operation table. Pushing with just enough weight, Coriolanus brought his leg up and over the subject’s body. And then the other, not bothering at the sounds of blood splashing against his surgical gown. He didn’t care if it breached past the layers of medical wear and stained his clothes.
“D… Doctor… S…Snow?”
Project Prometheus carefully opened their eyes, thick lashes framing against the dull colors of their irises. Twinges of discomfort were behind them, but curiosity burned the brightest there.
“... I… Is ever…ything, oka–”
A sharp gasp caught off the subject’s words.
Between them both, his free hand had reached down past the lungs, pushing the muscle slightly aside. Gloved fingers touched and traced along the endless lines of arteries. Caressing the superior vena cava, the aorta, the auricle… all the way down to grip tenderly, yet promising, at the apex of Project Prometheus’s physical heart. The subject let out a choked sound under his attention. Doing their best to get intakes of air, the lungs of the subject were expanding and retracting besides his hand for him to feel. For him to see. With just the right amount of pressure, he could exert so much damage onto the project’s body. Give the subject respiratory issues for the rest of the project, disrupt the steady flow of enzymes. Crush their heart in just one sitting. Endless opportunities, and Coriolanus knows the subject knows that. There was understanding shared in the heavy silence between them.
But, they were doing nothing to stop him.
No attempts to remove his hands. No yelling, or crying to tell him to get off. Just simple, almost fawn-like eyes staring back at him in hopes for an answer. He couldn’t make out fear, and it baffled him. This whole operation has been nothing short of gruesome, and here he was standing over their body, sinking into their blood, their body, and they did nothing to stop him. This whole situation would’ve been downright disturbing, yet there was a tight knot in his body that he felt unwinding. The control of the entire operation is in his hands, but control of himself was the battle he was currently fighting. And it felt like he was losing the longer Project Prometheus blinked up at him, hints of small tears on their lashes. The longer he gazed back at them, all that was reflected in its dreary eyes was the sight of him. Just him.
“... Do you trust me?” He breathed out, finally.
The subject made an attempt at a sound, the splash of color never leaving their face.
“Y…Yes,”
“More than Dr. Gaul?” He didn’t even know what he was saying at this point, his mouth was rambling before he could even process it.
“...More… t…than anyone…”
And there it was.
The culmination of all that was building up. Those very words felt like it was undoing all the wounded up tension that had been piling since the moment he got up this morning. Coriolanus felt his muscles tremble. But, he couldn’t tell from what anymore. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to even name it, either. It’d just shatter the moment. What was there to even say to that? A thank you was so impersonal. And praise was far more than Project Prometheus deserved, at this point. They were showered enough in it already, what more could the subject want from him. To the eyes of the Citadel, the desire for the project was clear as day. But, in the perspective of a broken animal, what else could they aspire when freedom was conditioned out of them.
Did it matter at this point?
No, it doesn’t, Coriolanus decided. Because as long as he was in the room with them, Project Prometheus' existence was to serve his own selfish interests. And it was doing just that. Coriolanus leaned himself down over the subject. Propping an elbow up besides their head, their laborious breaths closer to his surgical mask. The heated air tickled and brushed against his ears. He tapped his forehead down beside the stainless steel space beside them, letting out a heavy exhale. Standing this close, he could make out that the subject had a faint scent of simple soap. The cooling sensation of the table did nothing to alleviate the warm dizziness swirling in his head.
Pressing down the button next to their left ear, the stopwatch started. Coriolanus spoke in their right.
“We are now starting the timer for the internal nerve exam.”
#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#tw body horror#fanfic#.// ♡ basil's archive#. // ♡ rubatosis series#this took so long#but hopefully the writing makes up for it#crazy how its like 47 pages on google docs#this man is my wife#i really hope i portrayed this starting clash of denial and desire with coriolanus this chapter#really excited to write the next chapter soon
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Hi! Hope you're having a nice, wonderful even, day or noon or evening or night; love your work and how quick you are with it but please don't forget to take care of yourself!
Can I ask for Furina and Wanderer (my two kinnies) with a s/o who usually acts cheerful with them and is the sunshine of the relationship except they have secretly been developing insecurities over time, either because of Wanderer making some comments that didn't really have much meaning to them like her eating a bit more than usual or her hair growing long or from them not being able to cheer up Furina after the whole Fontaine thing blew over and finally; they break down all together, not eating anything, not saying anything most of the time for fear of annoying or boring them and constantly telling them that they can break up with them any time they want as they don't want to force them into this relationship
I am and I hope you're having a wonderful day or noon or evening or night too! Thank you! You’re so sweet!
Furina and Wanderer with sunshine!s/o who usually acts cheerful with them except they have insecurities
Furina
In the days following the Fontaine prophecy coming true Furina could see you were particularly down and she didn’t know why. She tried her best to cheer you up but it was hard when she herself was still recovering from the prophecy coming true and being able to finally relax. To stop pretending to be someone she wasn’t.
Finding her identity and recovering from the disaster while trying to help out her normally peppy now solemn lover was difficult. Furina had tried so many things before it became really bad and turned into a very alarming situation. She brought the both of you to her favorite dessert place which put a smile on her face and faintly saw one grace yours before returning to your normal expressionless one.
Slowly she took a forkful of her cake and brought it up to your lips, smiling hopefully at you now that she would be happy if you were happy and enjoy the new freedom she had to live completely relaxed with you.
“Look I know I’ve been depressed for a while and you probably felt bad about being unable to cheer me up but you were the most important reason for me to try and live my life now. So I want nothing more than for us to have fun and enjoy living so wanna try a bite of my cake? It’s sweet and then we can make macaroni after with your favorite drink.”
Wanderer
Wanderer knows that he makes comments to people that seem insensitive and harsh but people closer to him (or people he didn’t push away) know they almost never had any real bite to them. One or more of his comments must have gotten to you because you haven’t been eating or drinking much and what you have been eating is what he’s been heavily encouraging. He was a bit unsettled at first but as days passed, days he thought would result in your return to your usual bright happy self, you didn’t return to your previous self if anything you got worse.
Your hair had grown not that you cared and you’ve been muttering how you don’t want him to be forced into a relationship, how you’d be okay if he broke up with you which sounded insane. Wanderer had found the person who genuinely cared for him and who he cared about as well and now you were suddenly alright with abandoning him again. No! He wasn’t at all going to leave you or let you leave him!
So one night he had enough of his half-assed plans and dragged you out to Sumeru City, gathering ripe fruit and tea leaves that catered to both of your tastes. He then helped you up the great tree to a sizable platform that stuck up and had a great view of the sky, something he knew was fake but it was just as beautiful as you.
“I don’t I probably said something dumb that might have offended you but I hope you know I didn’t mean it at all. You have stayed with me despite how harsh I come off as and like hell I want this relationship to end. Not when you’ve stayed with me and I care about you a lot. I’m sorry I said something that hurt you.”
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#furina genshin#furina#furina x reader#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche x you#genshin scaramouche#wanderer x reader#wanderer
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Charles Leclerc x male reader
Spectacles
Thought about this like last year, been wanting to write it. I was gonna make it sad cause haven't done one of those in a long time but eh. Enjoy 🫶
Mostly in Charles' pov.
Warning:none
"Chaaaaaarles?"
A shout could be heard from somewhere in the ferrari garage.
"Better see what that's about, Charles, we're done for the day anyway."
Fred told Charles with a smile as he ruffled his hair.
"It's most likely about his glasses."
I said as I took a pair out from my bag.
"Why is it that he always loses his glasses, I'll never know."
Fred said with a questioning look.
"I'm off now, get some rest, winterbreak is just next week, and it's still wedneaday."
He said as he walked away.
"Charles?"
"You lost them again?"
Y/n nodded with a guilty smile.
"Here, I bought another pair incase you lose yours."
"th-this is embarrassing, sorry."
He put them on looking ashamed.
"It's fine, it's probably just in my driver's room."
I said as I took his hand and pulled him with me as I began to walk outside.
"Sorry for losing my glasses all the time."
"Y/n, it's fine, I know once you put them down it's hard to find cause your eyes are so shit."
I said with a laugh as I gripped his hand tighter.
"that's mean."
He pouted.
"Just facts, amour, have you eaten yet?"
I asked as I looked at him, he shook his head no.
"What do you want to eat?"
"I don't know."
"Do you even want to eat?"
I looked at him with a bored look as we approached my car. He shook his head as he gave me a smile.
"You don't have a choice, I know you haven't eaten since lunch, I'm getting you, your favourite."
I gave him a smile as I opened the passenger door for him and closed it after he got in.
"Do you want to stop by anywhere before we go to our room?"
I asked as I started the car and backed out of our parking spot.
"No, I wanna sleep."
"We eat first, then brush our teeth and sleep."
I drove out of the parking lot and placed my hand on his thigh occasionally squeezing.
"Fine."
"You have squishy thighs."
I glanced at him for a moment, seeing him blush and looking down, I chuckled.
"Let's just have our food delivered to our room, we might cause a crowd to form if I get out."
He nodded as I gave his thigh a pat.
After some time we made it in front of our hotel, a valet approached our car, I got out of the car and gave him the key as I opened the passenger door.
"Come on, princess."
I held his hand as he got out and closed the door, we made our way inside the hotel as the valet drove off.
"What do you want to drink?"
"Iced coffee please."
"This late? Are you okay in the head, love?"
I looked at him confused as I stopped walking.
"I like it."
"Fine, but you are going to eat."
"Sure.
We arrived inside our room, he immediately let go of me and jumped on the bed going over to my side and burying his face in my pillow.
"Can you even breathe?"
I sat beside him, petting his hair as I grabbed the hotel phone, getting ready to order our food.
I felt him nod.
"No you can't, come on."
I grabbed his head and put it on my lap as I dialed the front desk, I continued running my fingers through his hair as I ordered our food.
"You really need to eat more."
I worriedly said as I put the phone down, I felt something nudge my hand as I did. Looking over I see a pair of glasses behind the telephone.
"I think I found your glasses, amour."
I laughed softly as I reached over to take the glasses off the table and held it in front of his face.
"Where was it?"
He asked excitedly as he took the glasses from my hand.
"Behind the telephone."
"Ow... I wonder who put that there."
He rolled his eyes as I recalled the events of last night.
"Don't blame me, I was too excited to fuck you."
I laughed.
"You're vulgar."
He blushed as he tried to get up but I held him down by putting my hand on his forehead.
"Stay, it feels nice like this, calm."
He grumbled but obliged, moments passed and we heard a knock on the door.
"Must be our food, I'll get it, stay here."
I gently laid his head on a pillow as I got up and went to the door to get our food.
"Sorry it took a while, the person was a fan."
"No worries, I'm not even hungry."
"Yes you are, now get up and come here on the table and eat before I dragged you here."
I said sternly as I prepared our food.
"Okay, Mother."
"You're childish, hurry up."
"Don't rush me, I still need to put my crocs on."
He slowly slithered off the bed and onto the floor making me roll my eyes.
"Come on, up, up."
I approached him and pulled him up by his hand before carrying him to the chair next to the table.
"Is my iced coffee, here?"
He looked around the table searching for his coffee.
"Eat at least half of your food first before I give it to you."
I waved his beloved coffee in front of him.
"You monster."
He tried to sound menacing.
"Eat."
"Charles?"
He asked as I sat down in front of him.
"Hm?"
"How many pairs of glasses did you buy?"
"why??"
I asked confused.
"just 2, why?"
"Nothing, just asking."
"No it does not mean you can lose your glasses 2 times and just approach me."
I rolled my eyes knowing him too well.
"You're so mean."
"just eat."
———
After eating and he finished his iced coffee, we laid in bed. Just cuddling, me being the big spoon, I buried my face in his hair, taking a deep breath of his shampoo.
"You smell nice."
I mumbled against his hair.
"I know."
"You're so arrogant."
"But you wuv me."
He whined.
"Unfortunately, now g to bed, we need rest, it's 2am."
"Fine...... I love you."
"Love you too, ma lumière."
"Goodnight, Charles."
"Goodnight, Y/n."
#x male reader#x reader#y/n#gay#f1 x male reader#f1 x reader#f1 x m!reader#bottom male reader#f1 x y/n#charles leclerc x m!reader#charles leclerc x male reader#charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc
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hiii, could you write something fluff with vamp daryl and a fem reader that really likes to stay in the sun? and even tho daryl cant stay for long in the sun he likes watching her enjoy herself for afar💕😭 sorry for the bad writting english is not my firt language
my girl and her garden — daryl dixon🩰
in which vamp!daryl just loves to watch you in the sun
note: i dont have a specific kind of vampire in mind when i write this, so none of my vamp!daryl stuff is really the same.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
It never took long for you to understand what Daryl was.
You'd grown suspicious long before he'd admitted it to you, noticing he'd never eat around you and would always go out to find his own food. He'd find reasons to stay inside if he could, not that sunlight burned him alive, but too much of it was harmful.
It terrified him when he finally told you, worrying he'd be go back to being alone again. He didn't want to, but he enjoyed your company, he enjoyed waking up and working around you, surviving with you. So now the pair of you were stuck together.
Of course, you had a lot of questions.
"Will you outlive me?"
"Will you stay the same forever?"
"Will you get sick of me and eat me?"
And he answered them all however he could.
Daryl loved how different you were to him. He found comfort in staying inside, keeping to himself, and that had all changed when he'd met you.
You loved being outside. You loved the sun kissing your skin, you loved gardening and doing everything you could outside.
The cabin the two of you shared was fenced in and kept safe, thanks to Daryl. And had a lovely open area of grass, you'd even built flowerbeds, to plant and watch over your food.
Even as it had been raining a lot, you enjoyed at least being on your porch, watching your crops flourish in the rain, listening to the heavy thrum of the rain against the leaves and trees surrounding you.
It had finally starting to shine again outside and you almost leaped out of bed to get some UV on your skin.
Skipping coffee and breakfast, you'd put on a summer dress you'd kept over the years, and off you went.
The sun was beaming down onto your skin, onto your plants, fruits, and vegetables. You couldn't be happier as you bent down to admire the growing strawberries.
Daryl had only just rolled out of bed, feeling the vacant space beside him and worrying. Only to see the door to your cabin open, and could hear your sweet voice humming quietly in the distance.
He'd poured himself a coffee, standing at the door frame and fishing into his pocket for a smoke. He could do this for hours, he could make a profession out of this. Watching you, studying you, the way you smile at every bit of progress your garden was making. If he were to eventually die, this is what his Heaven would be.
You looked up, to see the moody shadow at the door frame and smiled sweetly at him, lifting a hand to wave. He'd returned the gesture, flapping his fingers at you and inhaling deeply on his cigarette.
You'd leaped up from your squatting position, running excitedly up to Daryl to show him your work. "Dar! Look!"
He stubbed his cigarette against the wall of the cabin, not wanting to blow smoke around you. "What is it, honey?"
You lifted the strawberry, a large, deep red, juicy looking one, and held it up to his face. "I know it's not to your taste, but try it! Look how amazing it's grown!"
You held it to his lips and he'd taken a bite, holding your gaze almost seductively. You wanted to drag him to bed and show him a good morning. But there were more exciting matters at hand, like your marvelous strawberry.
"That's amazing. Well done, my girl." He cooed, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you into him. Your stomach tightened quickly at the praise, and you'd accepting the affection from him. Daryl always knew how to make you feel special.
"Better get back out there!" You hurried back outside, after handing him the rest of the strawberry, and got back to work.
Daryl stayed where he was, comfortably inside and had the perfect view of you. The sun lighting up your skin, making you glow as if an Angel had come and roamed the Earth.
A small part of Daryl resented what he was, it limited what he could do, especially with you. If he could, he'd eat, sleep, bathe, and make love under the sun with you. He wanted to enjoy it as you did, but he was content with watching you for now.
#inbox 💌#daryl fanfiction#daryl x reader#daryl x you#daryl x female reader#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon incorrect quotes#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#daryl dixion imagine#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#daryl dixon blurb#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon imagines#twd daryl dixon#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead daryl dixon
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